
Qass i__ 






I 



Je^ 



THE F 



//' " \ 




DECISIVE 



BATTLES OF THE WORLD 



FROM 



MARATHON" TO WATERLOO 



BY E. S. CREASY 



PROFESSOR OP ANCIENT AND MODERN HISTORY IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON 
LATE FELLOW IN KINO's COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE 



Those few battles of which a contrary event would have essentially varied the 
drama of the world in all its subsequent scenes.— Hallam 



NEW YORK : 

WM. L. ALLISON, 

Nos. 93 Chambers and 75 Reade Streets. 

1886. 



r 



t-' 



BV TRANSFIX 



PREFACE. 



It is an honorable characteristic of the spirit of this age, that 
proj ects of violence and warfare are regarded among civilized states 
with gradually increasing aversion. The Universal Peace Society 
certainly does not, and probably never will, enroll the majority of 
statesmen among its members. But even those who look upon 
the appeal of battle as occasionally unavoidable in international 
controversies, concur in thinking it a deplorable necessity, only 
to be resorted to when all peaceful modes of arrangement have 
been vainly tried, and when the law of self-defense justifies a state, 
nke an individual, in using force to protect itself from imminent 
and serious injury. For a writer, therefore, of the present day 
to choose battles for his favorite topic, merely because they were 
battles ; merely because so many myriads of troops were arrayed 
in them, and so many hundreds of thousands of human beings 
stabbed, hewed, or shot each other to death during them, would 
argue strange weakness or depravity of mind. Yet it can not be 
denied that a fearful and wonderful interest is attached to these 
scenes of carnage. There is undeniable greatness in the disci- 
plined courage, and in the love of honor, which makes the combat- 
ants confront agony and destruction. And the powers of the 
human intellect are rarely more strongly displayed than they are 
in the commander who regulates, arrays, and wields at his will 
these masses of armed disputants ; who, cool, yet daring in the 
midst of peril, reflects on all, and provides for all, ever ready with 
fresh resources and designs, as the vicissitudes of the storm of 
slaughter require. But these qualities, however high they may 
appear, are to be found in the basest as well as in the noblest of 
mankind. Catiline was as brave a soldier as Leonidas, and a 



411*^ 



iv PBEFAC:^, 

much better officfer. Alva surpassed the Prince of Orange in the 
field ; and Suwarrow was the military superior of Kosciusko. To 
adopt the emphatic words of Byron, 

"Tls the cause miikes all, 
Degrades or liallows courage In Its fall. 

There are some battles, also, which claim our attention, inde- 
pendently of the moral worth of the combatants, on account of 
their enduring importance, and by reason of the practical influence 
on our own social and political condition, which we can trace up 
to the results of those engagements. They have for us an abiding 
and actual interest, both while we investigate the chain of causes 
and effects by which they have helped to make us what we are, 
and also while we speculate on what we probably should have 
been, if any one of those battles had come to a different termina- 
tion. Hallam has admirably expressed this in his remarks on the 
victory gained by Charles Martel, between Tours and Poictiers, 
over the invading Saracens. 

He says of it that " it may justly be reckoned among those few 
battles of which a contrary event would have essentially varied 
the drama of the world in all its subsequent scenes : with Mara- 
thon, Arbela, the Metaurus, Chalons, and Leipsic." It was the 
perusal of this note of Hallam's that first led me to the considera- 
tion of my present subject. I certainly differ from that great his- 
torian as to the comparative importance of some of the battles 
which he thus enumerates, and also of some which he omits. It 
is probable, indeed, that no two historical inquirers would entirely 
agree in their lists of the Decisive Battles of the World. Different 
minds will naturally vary in the impressions which particular 
events make on them, and in the degree of interest with which 
they watch the career, and reflect on the importance of different 
historical personages. But our concurring in our catalogues is of 
little moment, provided we learn to look on these great historical 
events in the spirit which Hallam's observations indicate. Those 
remarks should teach us to watch how the interests of many 
states are often involved in the collisions between a few ; and how 
the effect of those collisions is not limited to a single age, but 
may give an impulse which will sway the fortunes of successive 



PREFACE. V 

generations of mankind. Most valuable, alHO, is the mental die- 
cipline "vvhich is thus acquired, and ty which we are trained not 
only to observe what has been and what is, but also to ponder on 
what might have been.* 

We thus learn not to judge of the wisdom of measures too ex- 
clusively by the results. We learn to apply the juster standard 
of seeing what the circumstances and the probabilities were that 
surrounded a statesman or a general at the time when he decided 
on his plan ; we value him, riot by his fortune, but by his 
npoiaf>E8ii, to adopt the expressive word of Polybius.t for which 
our language gives no equivalent. 

The reasons why each of the following fifteen battles has been 
selected will, I trust, appear when it is described. But it may be 
well to premise a few remarks on the negative tests which have 
led me to reject others, which at first eight may appear equal in 
magnitude and importance to the chosen fifteen. 

I need hardly remark that it is not the number of killed and 
wounded in a battle that determines ita general historical import- 
ance. J It is not because only a few hundreds fell in the battle by 
which Joan of Arc captured the Tourelles and raised the siege of 
Orleans, that the effect of that crisis is to be judged ; nor would a 
full belief in the largest number which Eastern historians state to 
have been slaughtered in any of the numerous conflicts between 
Asiatic rulers, make me regard the engagement in which they fell 
as one of paramount importance to mankind. But, besides battles 
of this kind, there are many of great consequence, and attended 
with circumstances which powerfully excite our feelings and rivet 
our attention, and yet which appear to me of mere secondary rank, 
inasmuch as either their effects were limited in area, or they them- 
selves merely confirmed some great tendency or bias which an 
earlier battle had originated. For example, the encounters be- 
tween the Greeks and Persians, which followed Marathon, seem 
to me not to have been phenomena of primary impulse. Greek 
superiority had been already asserted, Asiatic ambition had already 
been checked, before Salamis and P]ata?a confirmed the superiority 

• See Bolingbroke "On the Study and Use ol History," vol. U., p. 497, of 
his collected notes, 
t Polyb., lib. ix., sect. 9. „ ^ 

t See Montesquieu, " Grandeur et Decadence des Romains, p. ». 



yi PBEFACR 

of Etiropean free states over Oriental despotism. So ^gospotamos, 
wnich finally crushed the maritime power of Athens, seems to me 
inferior in interest to the defeat before Syracuse, where Athens 
received her first fatal check, and after which she only struggled 
to retard her downfall. I think similarly of Zama with respect to 
Carthage, as compared with the Metaurus ; and, on the same 
principle, the subsequent great battles of the Kevolutionary war 
appear to me inferior in their importance to Valmy, which first 
determined the military character and career of the French Kevo- 
lution, 

I am aware that a little activity of imagination and a slight 
exercise of metaphysical ingenuity may amuse ns by showing how 
the chain of cireumstanees is so linked together, that the smallest 
skirmish, or the slightest occurrence of any kind, that ever occur- 
red, may be said to have been essential in its actual termination 
to the whole order of subsequent events. But when I speak of 
causes and effects, I speak of the obvious and important agency 
of one fact upon another, and not of remote and fancifully infini- 
tesimal influences. I am aware that, on the other hand, the re- 
proach of Fatalism is justly incurred by those who, like the 
writers of a certain school in a neighboring country, recognize in 
history nothing more than a series of necessary phenomena, 
which follow inevitably one upon the other. But when, in this 
work, I speak of probabilities, I speak of human probabilities 
only. When I speak of cause and effect, I speak of those general 
laws only by which we perceive the sequence of human affairs to 
be usually regulated, and in which we recognize emphatically the 
wisdom and power of the supreme Lawgiver, the design of the 
Designer. 

HrrsB Court Chambebs, Tbuplb) 

Juna 26. l&KU J 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTEE L 

Pag». 
The Battle of Mabathon 11 

Explanatory Remarks on some of the Circumstances of the 
Battle of Marathon 36 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Marathon, b.c. 490, 
and the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, b.c. 413,. . . , , . 38 

CHAPTER n. 

Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, b.c. 413 40 

Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Athenians at 
Syracuse and the Battle of Arbela , , , ,.,,,,,.. 56 

CHAPTER m. 

The Battle op Aebela, b.c. 331 57 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Arbela and the * 
Battle of tiie Metaurus , . , , , 76 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Battle op ths Metatjbus b.c. 207 : 79 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of the Metaurus, b. c. 
207, and Arminius's Victory over the Roman Legions under 

Varus, A.D. 9 101 

vii 



vui C0N2ENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 

ViOTOKT OP AbMINIUS OVER THE EoMAN LeGIONS UNDER VaRTTS, 

A.D. 9 104 

A.rminms 116 

Synopsis of Events between Arminius's Victory over Varus 
and the Battle of Chalons , 124 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Battle ov Chalons, a.d. 451 125 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Chalons, a.d. 451, 
and the Battle of Tours, 732 13l 

CHAPTER ^^^. 

The Battle of Tours, a.d. 732 , 138 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Tourss a.d. 732, and 
the Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1429 147 

CHAPTER Vin. 

The Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1066 149 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Hastipgs, >^d. 1066, 
and Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, a.d, 1429. 175 

CHAPTER IX. 

Joan of Arc's Victory over the English at Orleans, a.d. 1429 178 
Synopsis of Events between Joan of Arc's Victory of Orleans, 
A.D. 1429, and the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, a.d. 1588.... 194 

CHAPTER X. 

The Defeat op the Spanish Armada, a.d. 1588 * 195 

Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, 
A.D. 1588, and the Battle of Blenheim, a j). 1704 215 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Battle op Blenheim, a.d. 1704 , 216 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Blenheim, a.d. 1704, 
'and the Battle of Pultowa, a.d. 1709 235 

CHAPTER Xn. 

The Battle op Pultowa, a.d. 1709 236 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Pultowa, a.d. 1709, 
and the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, a.d. 1777 247 



CONTENTS, ix 

CHAPTER XIIL 

VlCTOBY C»P THE AmEBICANS OVER BUEGOYNE AT SaEATOGA, A.D. 

1777 ;;•••/••• 

Synopsis ot Events between the Defeat of Burgoyne at baratoga, 
A,D. 1777, ai. : the Battle of Valmy a.d. 1792 ^o7 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Battle of Valmt, a.d. 1792 • • • • • • • • • ^^^ 

Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Valmy, a.d. 1794, ana 
the Battle of Water^o, a.d. 1815 ■ ^^ 

CHAPTER XV. 
The BATTiiB of "WATERii<v> A.i>. 1815. 



Fifteen Decisive Battles 
Of the World, 



CHAPTER L 

THE BATTIiE OF MAEATHON. 

Qulbus axjtus uterque 
Buropse atque Aslse fatls concurrerlt orbls. 

Two THOtrsAND three hundred and forty years ago, a council oi 
Athenian officers was summoned on the slope of one of the moun- 
tains that look over the plain of Marathon, on the eastern coast of 
Attica. The immediate subject of their meeting was to consider 
whether they should give battle to an enemy that lay encamped 
on the shore beneath them; but on the resuL of their deliberations 
depended, not merely the fate of two armies, but the whole future 
progress of human civilization. 

There were eleven members of that council of war. Ten were 
the generals who were then annually elected at Athens, one for 
each of the local tribes into which the Athenians were divided. 
Each general led the men of his own tribe, and each was invested 
with equal military authority. But one of the archons was also 
associated with them in the general command of the army. This 
magistrate was termed the polemarch or War-ruler; he had the 
privilege of leading the right wing of the army in battle, and his 
vote in a council of war was equal to that of any of the generals. A 
noble Athenian named Callimachus was the War-ruler of this year; 
and as such, stood listening to the earnest discussion of the ten 
generals. They had, indeed, deep matter for anxiety, though little 
aware how momentous to mankind were the votes they were about 
to give, or how the generations to come would read with interest 
the record of their discussions. They saw before them the invad- 
ing forces of a mighty empire, which had in the last fifty years 
shattered and enslaved nearly all the kingdoms and principalities 
oi the then known world. Thev knew that all the resources of 

• H 



13 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

their ovra country were comprised in the little army I'ntrnsted to 
their guidance. They saw before them a chosen host of the Great 
King, sent to wreak his special wrath on that country, and on the 
other insolent little Greek community, which had dared to aid hia 
rebels and burn the capital of one of his provinces. That victo* 
rious host had already fulfilled half its mission of vengeance. Eretria, 
the confederate of Athens in the bold march against Sardis nine 
years before, had fallen in the last few days, and the Athenian 
generals could discern from the heights the island of .SJgilia, in 
which the Persians had deposited their Eretrian prisoners, whom 
they had reserved to be led away captives into Upper Asia, there to 
hear their doom from the lips of King Darius himself. Moreover, 
the men of Athens knew that in the camp before them was their 
own banished tyrant, who was seeking to be reinstated by foreign 
cimeters in despotic sway over any remnant of his countrymen 
that might survive the sack of their town, and n^ight be left behind 
as too worthless for leading away into Median bondage. 

The numerical disparity between the force which the Athenian 
commanders had under them, and that which they were called on 
to encounter, was hopelessly apparent to some of the council. The 
historians who wrote nearest to the time of the battle do not 
pretend to give any detailed statements of the numbers engaged, 
but there are sufficient data for our making a general estimate. 
Every free Greek was trained to military duty; and, from the in- 
cessant border wars between the different states, few Greeks reached 
the age of manhood without having seen some service. But the 
muster-roll of free Athenian citizens of an age fit for military duty 
never exceeded thirty thousand, and at this epoch probably did not 
amount to two-thirds of that number. Moreover, the poorer por- 
tion of these were unprovided with the equipments,' and untrained 
to the operations of the regular infantry. Some detachments of the 
best-armed troops would be required to garrison the city itself and 
man the various fortified posts in the territory; so that it is impos- 
sible to reckon the fully equipped force that marched from Athens 
to Marathon when the news of the Persian landing arrived, at high- 
er than ten thousand men. * 

With one exception, the other Greeks held back from aiding 
them. Sparta had promised assistance, but the Persians had land- 
ed on the sixth day of the moon, and a religious scruple delayed 
the march of Spartan troops till the moon should have reached its 

• Tlie historians, who lived long after the time of the hattle, such as Jus- 
tin. Plutarch, and others, give ten thousand as the number of the Athenian 
army. Not much reUancc could be placed on their authorit3^ if unsupported 
by other evidence ; but a calculation made for the number of the Athenian 
fi-ee population remarkably conflnns it. For the data of this, see Boeckh's 
"Pubhc Economy of Athens," vol. 1., p. 45. Some Mf'rozKoz pro^a'^ly 
served as HopUtes at Marathon, but the number of resident aliens at Athens 
eannot have been large at this period. 



BATTLE OF MAUATIION. 13 

fttll» From one quarter only, and that from a most unexpected 
one, did Athens receive aid at the moment of her great peril. 

Some years before this time the little state of Hataea in Boeotia, 
being hard pressed' by her powerful neighbor, Thebes, had asked 
the protection of Athens, and had owed to an Athenian army the 
rescue of her independence. Now when it was noised over Greece 
that the Mede had come from the uttermost parts of the earth to 
destroy Athens, the brave Plataeans, unsolicited, marched with 
their whole force to assist the defense, and to share the fortunes of 
their benefactors. The general levy of the Plataeans only amount- 
ed to a thousand men; and this little column, marching from their 
city along the southern ridge of Mount Cithseron, and thence across 
the Attic territory, joined the Athenian forces above Marathon al- 
most immediately before the battle. The re-enforcement was num- 
erically small, but the gallant spirit of the men who composed it 
must have made it of ten-fold value to the Athenians; and its pres- 
ence must have gone far to dispel the cheerless feeling of being 
deserted and friendless, which the delay of the Spartan succors was 
calculated to create among the Athenian ranks. * 

This generous daring of their weak but true-hearted ally was 
never forgotten at Athens. The Platseans were made the civil fel- 
low-countrymen of the Athenians, except the right of exercising 
certain political functions; and from that time forth, in the solemn 
sacrifices at Athens, the public prayers were offered up for a joint 
blessing from Heaven upon the Athenians, and the Platseans also. 

After the junction of the column from Platsea, the Athenian com- 
manders must have had under them about eleven thousand fully- 
armed and disciplined infantry, and probably a larger number of 
irregular light-armed troops; as, besides the poorer citizens who 
went to the field armed with javelins, cutlasses, and targets, each 
regular heavy-armed soldier was attended in the camp by one or 
more slaves, who were armed like the inferior freemea. f Cavalry 
or archers the Athenians (on this occasion) had none; and the use 
in the field of military engines was not at that period introduced 
into ancient warfare. 



• Mr. Grote observes (vol. Iv., p. 464) that "tMs volunteer marcli of the 
whole Platsean force to Marathon is one of the most affecting incidents of all 
Grecian history." In truth, the whole career of Plataea, and the friendship, 
strong, even unto death, between her and Athens, form one of the most af- 
fecting episodes in the history of antiquity. In the Peloponnesian war the 
Plataeans again were true to the Athenians against all risks, and all calcula- 
tion of self-interest ; and the destruction of Plattea was the consequence. 
There are few nobler passages in the classics than the speech in wlilch the 
Platiean prisoners of war, after the memorable siege of their city, justify 
before their Spartan executioners their loyal adherence to Athens. See 
Thdcydldes, lib. iii , sees. 53-60. 

t At the battle of Platasa, eleven years after Marathon, each of the eight 
thousand Athenian regular infantiy who served them was attended by a 
Mght-armed slave.~Herod., lib. vili., c. 2S, 29 



14 • DECISIVE BATTLES. 

Contrasted with their own scanty forces, the Greek commanuers 
saw stretched before them, along the shores of the winding bay, 
the tents and shipping of the varied nations who marched to do 
the bidding of the king of the Eastern world. The difficulty of 
finding transports and of securing provisions would form the only 
limit to the numbers of a Persian army. Nor is there any reason 
to suppose the estimate of Justin exaggerated, who rates at a hun- 
dred thousand the force which on this occasion had sailed, under 
the satraps Datis and Artaphernes, from the Cilician shores against 
the devoted coasts of Euboea and Attica. And after largely deduct- 
ing from this total, so as to allow for mere mariners and camp fol- 
lowers, there must still have remained fearful odds against the 
national levies of the Athenians. Nor could Greek generals then 
feel that confidence in the superior quality of their troops, which 
ever since the battle of Marathon has animated Europeans in con- 
flicts with Asiatics; as, for instance, in the after struggles between 
Greece and Persia, or when the Eoman legions encountered the 
myriads of Mithradates and Tigranes, or as is the case in the In- 
dian campaigns of our own regiments. On the contrary, up to the 
day of Marathon the Medes and Persians were reputed invincible. 
They had more than once met Greek troops in Asia Minor, in 
Cyprus, in Egypt, and had invariably beaten them. Nothing can 
be stronger than the expressions used by the early Greek writers 
respecting the terror which the name of the Medes inspired, and 
the prostration of men's spirits before the apparently resistless 
career of the Persian arms.* It is, therefore, little to be wondered 
at, that five of the ten Athenian generals shrank from the prospect 
of fighting a pitched battle against an enemy so superior in num- 
bers and so lormidable in military renown. Their own position 
on the heights was strong, and offered great advantages to a small 
defending force against assailing masses. They deemed it mere 
foolhardiness to descend into the plain to be trampled down by 
the Asiatic horse, overwhelmed with the archery, or cut to pieces 
by the invincible veterans of Cambyses and Cyrus. Moreover, 
Sparta, the great war-state of Greece, had been applied to, and had 
promised succor to Athens, though the religious observance which 
the Dorians paid to certain times and seasons had for the present 
delayed their march. Was it not wise, at any rate, to wait till the 
Spartans came up, and to have the help of the best troops in Greece, 
before they exposed themselves to the shock of the dreaded MedesJ/ 

*''ABrfvaioi rcp^roi dvadxovro edQi/rd rs Mr^diXTJr opecov' 
re's, xai rovi drdpa<3 ravryv £6Q7//u£vovi' tsgoS 6k yr roldi 
'EXX7]6i nai to ovvojiia T(Sy Mr'/dcDV q^osoi axovCai. — Hebo- 
DOTTJS lib. vi., c. 112. , 

Ai dLyvcS/xai dEdovXcojiisvai dTrdvTGOv ayBpooTrcor ifdav 
ovTGO TTo/XXd Mcd /iiEydXa xai /.idxi^cc yivrj nar a6 e6 ovXco^iivri 
rjv 7/ IIep6cov do^V. — Pi^tiio, jhenexervus. 



BATTLE OF MARATHOK 15 

Specious as these reasons might appear, the other five generals 
were for speedier and bolder operations. And, I'ortunately for 
Athens and for the world, one of them was a man, not only of the 
highest military genius, but also of that energetic character, which 
impresses its own type and ideas upon spirits ieebler m conception. 

Miltiades was the head of one of the noblest houses at Athens; he 
janked the .^acidse" among his ancestry, and the blood of Achilles 
flowed in the veins of the hero of Marathon. One of his immedi- 
ate ancestors had acquired the dominion of the Thracian Cher- 
sonese, and thus the family became at the same time Athenian citi- 
zens and Thracian princes. This occurred at the time when Pisis- 
tratus was tyrant of Athens. Two of the relatives of Miltiades — 
an uncle of the same name, and a brother named ^tesagoras — had 
ruled the Chersonese before Miltiades became its prince. \ He had 
been brought up at Athens in the house of his father, Cimon,* who 
was renowned throughout Greece for his victories in the Olympic 
chariot-races, and who must have been possessed of great wealth. 
The sons of Pisistratus, who succeeded their father in the tyranny 
at Athens, caused Cimon to be assassinated ;t but they treated the 
young Miltiades with favor and kindnessj and when his brother 
Stesagoras died in the Chersonese, they sent him out there as lord 
of the principality. This was about twenty-eight years before the 
battle of Marathon, and it is with his arrival in the Chersonese 
that our first knowledge of the career and character of Miltiades 
commences. We find, in the first act recorded of him, the proof 
of the same resolute and unscrupulous spirit that marked his 
mature age. His brother's authority in the principality had been 
shaken by war and revolt ; Miltiades determined to rule more 
securely. On his arrival he kept close within his house, as if he 
was mourning for his brother. The principal men of the Cher- 
sonese, hearing of this, assembled from all the towns and districts, 
and went together to the house of Miltiades, on a visit of condo- 
lence. As soon as he had thus got them in his power, he made 
them all prisoners. He then asserted and maintained his own 
absolute authority in the peninsulp,, taking into his pay a body of 
five hundred regular troops, and strengthening his interest by 
marrying the daughter of the king of the neighboring Thracians. 

When the Persian power was extended to the Hellespont and 
its neighborhood, Miltiades, as prince of the Chersonese, submit- 
ted to King Darius ; and he was one of the numerous tributary 
rulers who led their contingents of men to serve in the Persian 
camp, in the expedition against Scythia. Miltiades and the vassal 
Greeks of Asia Minor were left by the Persian king in charge of 
the bridge across the Danube, when the invading army crossed 
that river, and plunged into the wilds of the country that now is 
Russia, in vain pursuit of the ancestors of the modern Cossacks. 

* Heroaotus, UD. vi., c. 103. t lb. 



i6 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

On learninp; the reverses that Darius met with in the Scythian 
wilderness, Miltiades proposed to his companions that they should 
break the bridge down, and leave the Persian king and his army 
to perish by famine and the Scythian arrows. The rulers of the 
Asiatic Greek cities, whom Miltiades addressed, shrank from this 
bold but ruthless stroke against the Persian power, and Darius 
returned in safety. . But it was known what advice Miltiades had 
given, and the vengeance of Darius was thenceforth specially 
directed against the man who had counseled such a deadly blow 
against his empire and his person. The occupation of the Persian 
arms in other quarters left Miltiades for some years after this 
in possession of the Chersonese ; but it was precarious and inter- 
rupted. He, however, availed himself of the opportunity which 
his position gave him of conciliating the good-will of his fellow- 
countrymen at Athens, by conquering and placing under the 
Athenian authority the islands of Lemnos and Imbros, to which 
Athens had ancient claims, but which she had never previously 
been able to bring into complete subjection. At length, in 494, 
B. c, the complete suppression of the Ionian revolt by the Per- 
sians left their armies and fleets at liberty to act against the 
enemies of the Great King to the west of the Hellespont. A 
strong squadron of Phenician galleys was sent against the Cherso- 
nese. Miltiades knew that resistance was hopeless ; and while the 
Phenicians were at Tenedos, he loaded five galleys with all the 
treasure that he could collect, and sailed away for Athens. The 
Phenicians fell in with him, and chased him hard along the north 
of the ^gean . One of his galleys, on board of which was his 
eldest son, Metiochus, was actually captured. But Miltiades, with 
the other four, succeeded in reaching the friendly coast of Imbros 
in safety. Thence he afterward proceeded to Athens, and re- 
sumed his station as a free citizen of the Athenian commonwealth. 
The Athenians, at this time, had recently expelled Hippias, 
the son of Pisistratus, the last of their tyrants. They were in 
the full glow of their newly-recovered liberty and equality ; and 
the constitutional changes of Cleisthenes had inflamed their re- 
publican zeal to the utmost. Miltiades had enemies at Athens ; 
and these, availing themselves of the state of popular feeling, 
brought him to trial for his life for having been tyrant of the 
Chersonese. The charge did not necessai;^ import any acts of 
cruelty or wrong to individuals : it was fouhded on no specific law ; 
but it was based on the horror with which the Greeks of that age 
regarded every man who made himself arbitrary master of his 
fellow-men, and exercised irresponsible dominion over them. 
The fact of Miltiades having so ruled in the Chersonese was un- 
deniable but the question which the Athenians assembled in 
judgment must have tried, was whether Miltiades, although 
tyrant of the Chersonese, deserved punishment as an Athenian 
citizen. The eminent service that he had done the state in con- 



M^fLJE OF MAEATHOir. If 

quering Lemnos and Imbros for it, pleaded strongly in his favor. 
The people refused to convict him. He stood high in public opin- 
ion. And when the coming invasion of the Persians was known, 
the people wisely elected him one of their generals for the year. 

Two other men of high eminence in history, though their re- 
nown was achieved at a later period tban that of Miitiades, were 
also among the ten Athenian generals, at Marathon. One was 
Themistocles, the future founder of the Athenian navy, and the 
destined victor of SaLimis. The other was Aristides, who after- 
ward led the Atheni-o-n troops at Plateea, and whose integrity and 
just popularity acquired for his country, when the Persians had 
finally been repulsed, the advantageous pre-eminence of being 
acknowledged by half of the Greeks as their imperial leader and 
protector. It is not recorded what part either Themistocles or 
Aristides took in the debate of the counsel of war at Marathon. 
But, from the charajster of Themistocles, his boldness, and his 
intuitive genius for extemporizing the best measures in _ every 
emergency* (a quality which the greatest of historians ascribes to 
him beyond all his contemporaries), we may well believe tha^i 
the vote of Themistocles was for prompt and decisive action. 
On the vote of Aristides it may be more difficult to speculate. 
His predilection for the Spartans may have made him wish to 
wait till they came up ; but though circumspect, he was neither 
timid as a soldier nor as a politician, and the bold advice of Mii- 
tiades may probably have found in Aristides a willing, most as- 
suredly it found in him a candid, hearer. 

Miitiades felt no hesitation as to the course which the Athenian 
army ought to pursue; and earnestly did he press his opinion on 
his brother-generals. Practically acquainted with the organization 
of the Persian armies, Miitiades felt convinced of the superiority 
of the Greek troops, if properly handled; he saw with tho military 
eye of a great general the advantage which the position of the forces 
gave him for a sudden attack, and as a profound politician he felt 
the perils of remaining inactive, and of giving treachery time to 
ruin the Athenian cause. 

One officer in the council of war had not yet voted. This was 
Callimachus, the War-ruler. The votes of the generals^ wore five 
a id five, so that the voice of Callimachus would be decisive. 

On that vote, in all human probability, the destiny of all the 
nations of the world depended. Miitiades turned to him, and in 
simple soldierly eloquence, the substance of which we may read 
faithfully reported in Herodotus, who had conversed with the vet- 



* See the cliaracter of Themistocles in the 138th section of the first 
book of Thucydides, especially the last sentence. Kai ro ^vfiitav 
eiTtaiv (pvdEGoi jusv dvvdjuei ^sXsryi ds ppaxvTrjri jipdzi- 
6zoi dtf ovroi avto6x^^^ccl£iv rd dsovra eyivsvo. 



18 DECISIVE iATTm 

erans of Marathon, tlie great Athenian thus adjured his country- 
men to vote for giving battle. 

"It now rests with you, Callimachus, either to enslave Athens, 
or, "by assuring her freedom, to win yourself an immortality of 
fame, such aa not even Harmodius and Aristogeiton have acquired; 
for never, since the Athenians were a people, were they in such 
danger as they are in at this moment. If they bow the knee to 
these Medes, they are to be given up to Hippias, and you know 
what they then will have to suffer. But if Athens comes victo- 
rious outof thia contest, she has it in her to become the first city 
of Greece. !Your vote is to decide whether we are to join battle or 
not. If we do not bring on a battle presently, some factious in- 
trigue will disunite the Athenians, and the city will be betrayed 
to the Medes. But if we fight, before there is anything rotten in 
the state of Athens, I believe that, provided the gods will give fair 
play and no favor, we are able to get the best of it in an engage- 
ment."* 

The vote of the brave War-ruler was gained; the council deter- 
mined to give battle; and such was the ascendency and acknowl- 
edged military eminence of Miltiades, that his brother generals 
one and all gave up their days of command to him, and cheerfully 
acted under his orders. Fearful, however, of creating any jealousy, 
and of so failing to obtain the vigorous co-operation of all parts of 
his small army, Miltiades waited till the day when the chief com- 
mand would have come round to him in regular rotation before he 
.led the troops against the enemy. 
*^ The inaction of the Asiatic commanders during this interval 
appears strange at first sight; but Hippias was with them, and 
they and he were aware of their chance of a bloodless conquest 
through the machinations of his partisans among the Athenians. 
The nature of the ground also explains in many points the tactics 
of the opposite generals before the battle, as well as the operations 
of the troops during the engagement. 

The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty-two miles distant 
from Athens, lies along the bay of the same name on the north- 

* Herodotus, lit), vi., sec. 109. The llGth section Is tx) my mind clear 
proof tliat Herodotus had personally conversed with Eplzelus, one of the 
veterans of Marathon. The suhstance of the speech of Miltiades would 
naturally tecome known by the report of some of his coUea^es. The 
speeches which ancient historians place in the mouths of kings and generals 
are generally inventions of their own ; hut part of this speech of Miltiades 
bears internal evidence of authenticity, yueh is the case with the remark- 
able expression T/vde ^v/ii/Ja/iGOjii£v Ttpi'v riuai daOpov 'AOt/vaiGov 
xere^ste'poidi kyy£ye6Bai, Bsf^v rd ida rsjuovrcoy, oioi te 
Eif.LEv TtEpiyEyEdBai.rfj 6vj.ifioA.y. This daring and almost liTeverent 
assertion would never have been coined by Herodotus, but it is precisely 
consonant with Avhat we know of the character of Ailltiades ; and it is an 
expression v>-hich 11 used by him, would be sure to bfe remembered and 
repeated by his hearers. 



BATTLE OF MABATilOK H 

eastern coast of Attica. The plain is nearly in the form of a cres- 
cent, and about six miles in length. It is about two miles broad 
in the center, where the space between the mountains and the sea 
is greatest, but it narrows toward either extremity, the mountains 
coming close down to the water at the horns of the bay. There is 
a valley trending inward from the middle of the plain, and a ravine 
comes down to it to the southward. Elsewhere it is closely girt 
round on the land side by rugged limestone mountains, which are 
thickly studded with pines, olive-trees, and cedars, and overgrown 
with the myrtle, arbutus, and the other low odoriferous shrubs that 
everywhere perfume the Attic air. The level of the ground is now 
varied by the mound raised over those who fell in the battle, but it 
was an unbroken plain when the Persians encamped on it. There 
are marshes at each end, which are dry in spring and summer, and 
then offer no obstrucUon to the horseman, but are commonly 
flooded with rain and so rendered impracticable for cavalry in the 
autumn, the time of year at which the action took place. 

The Greeks, lying encamped on the mountains, could watch 
every movement of the Persians on the plain below, while they 
were enabled completely to mask their own. Miltiades also had 
from his position, the power of giving battle whenever he pleased, 
or of delaying it at this discretion, unless Datis were to attempt 
the perilous operation of storming the heights. 

If we turn to the map of the Old World, to test the comparative 
territorial resources of the two states whose armies were now 
about to come into conflict, the immense preponderance of the 
material power of the Persian king over that of the Athenian re- 
public is more striking than any similar contrast which history 
can supply. It has been truly remarked, that, in estimating 
mere areas, Attica, containing on its whole surface only seven 
hundred square miles, shrinks into insignificance, if compared 
with many a baronial fief of the Middle Ages, or many a colonial 
allotment of modern times. Its antagonist, the Persian Empire, 
comprised the whole of modern Asiatic and much of modern Eu- 
ropean Turkey, the modern kingdom of Persia, and the countries 
of modern Georgia, Armenia, Balkh, the Punjaub, Afghanistan, 
Beloochistan, Egypt, and Tripoli. 

Nor could a European, in the beginning of the fifth century be- 
fore our era, look upon this huge accumulation of power beneath 
the scepter of a single Asiatic ruler with the indifference with 
which we now observe on the map the extensive dominions of 
modern Oriental sovereigns ; for, as has been already remarked, 
before Marathon was fought, the prestige of success and of sup- 
posed superiority of race was on the side of the Asiatic against 
the European. Asia was the original seat of human societies, an<l 
long before any trace can be found of the inhabitants of the rest 
of the world having emerged from the rudest barbarism, we can 
perceive that mighty and brilliant empires flourished in the Asi- 



20 DECISI VE BA TTLM 

atic continent They appeax before us through the twilight oi 
primeval history, dim and indistinct, but massive and majestic, 
like mountains in the early dawn. 

Instead, however, of the infinite variety and restless change 
which has characterized the institutions and fortunes of European 
states ever since the commencement of the civilization of our con- 
tinent, a monotonous uniformity pervades the histories of nearly 
all Oriental empires, from the most ancient down to the most re- 
cent times. They are characterized by the rapidity of their early 
conquests, by the immense extent of the dominions comprised in 
them, by the establishment of a satrap or pashaw system of gov- 
erning the provinces, by an invariable and speedy degeneracy in 
the princes of the royal house, the effeminate nurslings of the 
seraglio succeeding to the warrior sovereigns, reared in the camp, 
and by the internal anarchy and insurrections which indicate and 
accelerate the decline and fall of these unwieldy and ill-organized 
fabrics of power. It is also a striking fact that the governments 
of all the great Asiatic empires have in all ages been absolute des- 
potisms. And Heeren is right in connecting this with another 
great fact, which is important from its influence both on the po- 
litical and the social life of Asiatics. "Among all the considerable 
nations of Inner Asia, the paternal government of every household 
was corrupted by polygamy: where that custom exists, a good po- 
litical constitution is impossible. Fathers, being converted into 
domestic despots, are ready to pay the same abject obedience to 
their sovereign which they exact from their family and depen- 
dents in their domestic economy." We should bear in mind, also, 
the inseparable connection between the state religion and all leg- 
islation which has always prevailed in the East, and the constant 
existence of a powerful sacerdotal body, exercising some check, 
though precarious and irregular, over the throne itself, grasping 
at all civil administration, claiming the supreme control of educa- 
tion, stereotyping the lines in which literature and science must 
move, and limiting the extent to which it shall be lawful for the 
human mind to prosecute its inquiries. 

With these general characteristics rightly felt and understood, 
it becomes a comparatively easy task to investigate and appreciate 
the origin, progress, and principles of Oriental empires in gener- 
al, as well as of the Persian monarchy in particular. And we are 
thus better enabled to appreciate the repulse which Greece gave 
to the arms of the East, and to iudge of the probable consequences 
to human civilization, if the Persians had succeeded in bring- 
ing Europe under their yoke, as they had already subjugated the 
fairest portions of the rest of the then known world. 

The Greeks, from their geographical position, formed the nat- 
ural van-guard of European liberty against Persian ambition ; and 
they pre-eminently displayed the salient points of distinctive na- 
tional character which have rendered European civilization so fax 



BATTLE OF MAttATHOK 21 . 

superior to Asiatic. The nations that dwelt in_ ancient times 
around and near the northern shores of the Mediterranean Sea, 
were the first in our continent to receive from the East the rudi- 
ments of art and literature, and the germs of social and political 
organizations. Of these nations the Greeks, through their vicin- 
ity to Asia Minor, Phenicia, and Egypt, were among the very 
foremost in acquiring the principles and habits of civilized life; 
and they also at once imparted a new and wholly original stamp 
on all which they received. Thus, in their religion, they received 
from foreign settlers the names of all their deities and many of 
their rites, but they discarded the loathsome monstrosities of the 
Nile, the Orantes, and the Ganges; they nationalized their creed; 
and their own poets created their beautiful mythology. No sacer- 
dotal caste ever existed in Greece. So, in their governments, 
they lived long under hereditary kings, but never endured the 
permanent establishment of absolute monarchy. Their early 
kings were constitutional rulers, governing with defined preroga- 
tives.* And long before the Persian invasion, the kingly form of 
government had given way in almost all the Greek states to re- 
publican institutions, presenting infinite varieties of the blending 
or the alternate predominance of the oligarchical and democratical 
principles. In literature and science the Greek intellect followed 
no beaten track, and acknowledged no limitary rules. The Greeks 
thought their subjects boldly out; and the novelty of a specula- 
tion invested it in their minds with interest, and not with crimi- 
nality. Versatile, restless, enterprising, and self-confident, the 
Greeks presented the most striking contrast to the habitual quie- 
tude and submissiveness of the Orientals; and, of all the Greeks, 
the Athenians exhibited these national characteristics in the 
strongest degree. This spirit of activity and daring, joined to a 
generous sympathy for the fate of their fellow-Greeks in Asia, had 
led them to join in the last Ionian war; and now mingling with 
their abhorrence of the usurping family of their own citizens, 
which for a period had forcibly seized on and exercised despotic 
power at Athens, nerved them to defy the wrath of King Darius, 
and to refuse to receive back at his bidding the tyrant whom they 
had some years before driven out. 

The enterprise and genius of an Englishman have lately con- 
firmed by fresh evidence, and invested with fresh interest, the 
might of the Persian monarch who sent his troops to combat at 
Marathon. Inscriptions in a character termed the Arrow-headed 
or Cuneiform, had long been known to exist on the marble mon- 
uments at Persepolis, near the site of the ancient Susa, and on the 
faces of rocks in other places formerly ruled over by the early 
Persian kings. But for thousands of years they had been mere 



*' 



Eni p — oiiyefiCfdi TCarpiKai /SadiXElai.—Tuvcrj). lit>. i. sec. i?, 



22 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

unintelligible enigmas to the curious but baffled beholder ; and 
they were often referred to as instances of the folly of humar 
pride, which eo\ild indeed write its own praises in the solid rock, 
but only for the rock to outlive the language as well as the mem- 
ory of the vainglorious inscribers. The elder Niebuhr, Grotefend, 
and Lassen, had made some guesses at the meaninu of the Cunei- 
form letters; but Major Rawlinson, of the East India Company's 
service, after years of labor, has at last accomplished the glorious 
achievement of fully revealing the alj)habet and the grammar of 
this long unknown tongue. He has, in particular, fully deci- 
phered and expounded the inscription on the sacred rock of 
Behistun, on the western frontiers of Media. These records of 
the Acha?menida3 have at length found their interpreter; and Da- 
rius himself speaks to us from the consecrated mountain, and 
tells us the names of the nations that obeyed him, the revolts that 
Ue suppressed, his victories, his piety, and his glory. * 

Kings who thus seek the admiration of posterity are little likely 
to dim the record of their successes by the mention of their occa- 
sional defeats; and it throws no suspicion on the narrative of the 
Greek historians that we find these inscriptions silent respecting 
the overthrow of Datis and Artaphernes, as well as respecting the 
reverses which Darius sustained in person during his Scythian cam- 
paigns. But these indisputable monuments of Persian fame con- 
firm, and even increase the opinion with which Herodotus ia- 
spires us of the vast power which Cyrus founded and Camb^ses 
increased; which Darius augmented by Indian and Arabian con- 
quests, and seemed likely, when he directed his arms against 
Europe, to make the predominant monarchy of the world. 

With the exception of the Chinese empire, in which, through- 
out all ages down to the last few years, one-third of the humar 
race has dwelt almost unconnected with the other portions, all th 
great kingdoms, which we know to have existed in nncient Asia, 
were, in Darius's time, blended into the Persian, ^e northern 
Indians, the Assyrians, the Syrians, the Babylonians, the Chaldees, 
the Fhenicians, the nations of Palestine, the Armenians, the Bac- 
trians,. the Lydians, the Phrs^gians, the Parthians, and the Medes, 
all obeyed the scepter of the' Great King: the Medes standing next 
to the native Persians in honor, and the empire being frequently 
spoken of as that of the Medes or as that of the Medes and Per- 
sians. Egypt and Cyrene were Persian provinces; the Greek col- 
onists in Asia Minor and the islands of the .^gsean were Darius's 
subjects; and their gallant but unsuccessful attempts to throw oft 
the Persian yoke had only served to rivet it more strongly, and 
to increase the general belief that the Greeks could not stand be- 
fore the Persians in a field of battle. Darius's Scythian war, 

♦ iSee Xho tentli Yplume of ttie " Jovraftl oJ the Koyal Asiatic Society." 



BATTLE OF MARATHOIT. 23 

though Tinsuccessful in its immediate object, had brought fiboai 
the snbjugation of Thrace and the submission of Macedonia 
From the Indus to the Peneus, all was his. 

We may imagine the wrath with which the lord of so many na- 
tions must have heard, nine years before the battle of Marathon, 
that a strange nation toward the setting sun, called the Athenians, 
had dared to help his rebels in Ionia against him, and that they 
had plundered and burned the capital of one of his provinces. 
Before the burning of Sardis, Darius seems never to have heard 
of the existence of Athens; but his satraps in Asia Minor had for 
some time seen Athenian refugees at their provincial courts im- 
ploring assistance against their fellow-countrymen. When Hip- 
pias was driven away from Athens, and the tyrannic dynasty of 
the Pisistratid89 finally overthrown in 510 b, c, the banished ty- 
rant and his adherents, after vainly seeking to be restored by 
Spartan intervention, had betaken themselves to Sardis, the capi- 
tal city of the satrapy of Artaphernes. There Hippias (in the ex- 
pressive words of Herodotus*) began every kind of agitation, slan- 
dering the Athenians before Artaphernes, and doing all he could 
to induce the satrap to place Athens in subjection to him, as the 
tributary vassal of King Darius. When the Athenians heard ol 
his practices, they sent envoys to Sardis to remonstrate with the 
Persians against taking up the quarrel of the Athenian refugees. 

But Artaphernes gave them in reply a menacing command to 
receive Hippias back again if they looked for safety. The Athe- 
nians were resolved not to purchase safety at such a price, and 
after rejecting the satrap's terms, they considered that they and 
the Persians were declared enemies. At this very crisis the Io- 
nian Greeks implored the assistance of their European brethren, 
to enable them to recover their independence from Persia. Athens, 
and the city of Eretria in Eubcea, alone consented. Twenty Athe- 
nian galleys, and five Eretrian, crossed the ^gse^n Sea, and by a 
bold and sudden march upon Sardis, the Athenians and their al- 
lies succeeded in capturing the capital city of the haughty satrap, 
who had recently menaced them with servitude or destruction. 
They were pursued, and defeated on their return to the coast, and 
Athens took no further part in the Ionian war: but the insult that 
she had put upon the Persian power was speedily made known 
throughout that empire, and was never to be forgiven or forgotten. 
In the emphatic simplicity of the narrative of Herodotus, the 
wrath of the Great King is thus described: "Now when it was 
told to King Darius that Sardis had been taken and burned by the 
Athenians and Ionian s, he took small heed of the lonians, well 
knowing who they were, and that their revolt would soon be put 
down; but he asked who, and what manner of men, the Athenians 



* Herod., lib. v. c. 



'y? 



DEdSIVS BATTLES. 

■wer?, iiind when he had been told, he called for his bow; and, 
b' \ing taken it, and placed an arrow on the string, he let the ar- 
row fly toward heaven, and as he shot it into the air, he said, ' Oh! 
supreme Grod, grant me that I may avenge myself on the Athe- 
nians.' And when he had said this, he appointed one of his ser- 
vants to say to him every day as he sat at meat, ' Sire, remember 
the Athenians.'" 

Some years were occupied in the complete reduction of Ionia. 
But when this was effected, Darius ordered his victorious forces 
to proceed to punish Athens and Eretria, and to conquer Euro-^ 
pean Greece. The first armament sent for this purpose was shat-' 
tered by shipwreck, and nearly destroyed ofl" Mount Athos. But 
the purpose of King Darius was not easily shaken. A larger army 
was ordered to be collected in Cilicia, and requisitions were sent 
to all the maritime cities of the Persian empire for ships of war, 
and for transports of sufficient size for carrying cavalry as well as 
infantry across the Mgsean. While these preparations were being 
made, Darius sent heralds round to the Grecian cities demanding 
their submission to Persia. It was proclaimed in the market-place 
of each little Hellenic state (some with territories not larger than 
the Isle of Wight) that King Darius, the lord of all men, from the 
rising to the setting sun,* required earth and water to be delivered 
to his heralds, as a symbolical acknowledgment that he was head 
and master of the country. Terror-stricken at the power of Persia 
and at the severe punishment that had recently been inflicted on 
the refractory lonians, many of the continental Greeks and nearly 
all the islanders submitted, and gave the required tokens of vassal- 
age. At Sparta and Athens an indignant refusal was returned — a 
refusal which was disgraced by outrage "end violence against the 
persons of the Asiatic heralds. 

Fresh fuel was thus added to the anger of Darius against Ath- 
ens, and the Persian preparations went on with renewed vigor. 
In the summer of 490 b. c, the army destined for the invasion 
wa^ assembled in the Aleian plain of Cilicia, near the sea. A 
fleet of six hundred galleys and numerous transports was collect* 
ed on the coast for the embarkation of troops, horse as well as 
foot. A Median general named Datis, and Artaphernes, the son 
of the satrap of Sardis, and who was also nephew of Darius, 
were placed in titular joint command of the expedition. The 
real supreme authority was probably given to Datis alone, from 

* ^scMnes in Ctes., p. 522, ed. Reiske. Mitford, vol, i., p. 485. JEschlnes 
is speatlng of Xerxes, tut Mitford is probably riglit in consideilng it as tlie 
stylqs of ttie Persian kings in their proclainatloiis. In one of tlie inscriptions 
at Persepolis, Darius terms WmseK " Darius, ttie great king, king of kings, 
the king of the many-peopled countries, the supporter also of this great 
world." In another, he styles himself '* the kmg of all inhahited countries." 
(See 'Asiatic Jom-nal," vol. x., p. 2ST and i92, and Major Kawlinson's Com- 
ments). 



BATTLE OF MARATHON. 2S 

the way in wTiicli the Greek writers speak of him. We know 
no details of the previous career of this officer ; but there is 
every reason to believe that his abilities and bravery had been 
proved by experience, or his Median birth would have prevented 
his being placed in high command by Darius. He appears to 
have been the first Mede who was thus trusted by the Persian 
kings after the overthrow of the conspiracy of the Median magi 
against the Persians immediately before Darius obtained the 
throne. Datis received instructions to complete the subjugation 
of Greece, and especial orders were given him with regard to 
Eretria and Athens . He was to take these two cities, and he 
was to lead the inhabitants away captive, and bring them as 
slaves into the presence of the Great King. 

Datis embarked his forces in the fleet that awaited them, and 
coasting along the shores of Asia Minor till he was ofl" Samos, he 
thence sailed due westward through the Mg^eon Sea for Greece, 
taking the islands in his way. The Naxians had, ten years be- 
fore, successfully stood a siege against a Persian armam'ent, but 
they now were too terrified to ofier any resistance, and fled to 
the mountain tops, while the enemy burned their town and laid 
waste their lands. Thence Datis, compelling the Greek island- 
ers to join him with their ships and men. sailed onward to the 
coast of Euboea. The little town of Carystus essayed resistance, 
but was quickly overpowered. He next attacked Eretria. The 
Athenians sent four thousand men to its aid ; but treachery was 
at work among the Eretrians ; and the Athenian force received 
timely warning from one of the leading men of the city to retire 
to aid in saving their own country, instead of remaining to share 
in the inevitable destruction of Eretria. Left to themselves, the 
Eretrians repulsed the assaults of the Persians against their walls 
for six days ; on the seventh they were betrayed by two of their 
chiefs, and the Persians occupied the city. The temples were 
burned in revenge for the firing of Sardis, and the inhabitants 
were bound, and placed as prisoners in the neighboring islet of 
^gilia, to wait there till Datis should bring the Athenians to 
join them in captivity, when both populations were to be led 
into Upjjer Asia, there to learn their doom from the lips of King 
Darius himself. 

Flushed vsdth success, and with half his mission thus accom- 
plished, Datis re-embarked his troops, and, crossing the little 
channel that separates Euboea from the main land, he encamped 
his troops on the Attic coast at Marathon, drawing up his gal- 
leys on the shelving beach, as was the custom with the navies 
of antiquity. The conquered islands behind him served as 
places of deposit for his provisions and military stores. His po- 
sition at Marathon seemed to him in every respect advantageous, 
and the level nature of the ground on which he camped was 
favorable for the employment of his cavalry, if the Athenians 



26 DECIsnnS BATTLES. 

should venture to engage him. Hippias, who accompaniecl him, 
and acted as the guide of the invaders, had pointed out. Mara- 
thon as the best place for a landing, for this very reason. Prob- 
ably Hippias was also influenced by the recollection that forty- 
seven years previously, he, with his father Pisistratus, had cross- 
ed with an army from Eretria to Marathon, and had won an 
easy victory over their Athenian enemies on that very plain, 
which had restored them to tyrannic power. The omen seemed 
cheering. The place was the same ; but Hippias soon learned 
to his cost how great a change had come over the spirit of the 
Athenians. 

But though " the fierce democracy" of Athens was zealous and 
true against foreign invader and domestic tyrant, a faction existed 
in Athens, as at Eretria, who were willing to purchase a paiiy 
triumph over their fellow-citizens at the price of their country's 
ruin. Communications were opened between these men and the 
.Persian camp, which would have led to a catastrophe like that of 
Eretria, if Miltiades had not resolved and persuaded his colleagues 
to resolve on fighting at all hazards. 

When Miltiades arrayed his men for action, he staked on the 
arbitrament of one battle not only the fate of Athens, but that of 
all Greece; for if Athens had fallen, no other Greek state, except 
Lacedsemon, would have had the courage to resist; and the 
LacedaBmonians, though they would probably have died in their 
ranks to the last man, never could hiTve succ8Bsfully resisted the 
nctorious Persians and the numerous Greek troops which would 
have soon marched under the Persian satraps, had they prevailed 
»ver Athens. 

Nor was there any power to the westward of Greece that could 
have offered an effectual opposition to Persia, had she once con- 
quered Greece, and made that country a basis for future military 
operations. Eome was at this time in her season of utmost weak- 
ness. Her dynasty of powerful Etruscan kings had been driven 
out; and her infant commonwealth w^as reeling under the attacks 
of the Etruscans and Yolscians from without, and the fierce dis- 
sensions between the patricians and plebeians within. Etruria, 
with her Lucumos and serfs, was no match for Persia. Samnium 
had not grown into the might which she afterward put forth ; nor 
could the Greek colonies in South Italy and Sicily hope to conquer 
when their parent states had perished. Carthage had escaped the 
Persian yoke in the time of Cambyses, through fiie reluctance of 
the Phenician mariners to seiwe against their kinsmen. But 
such forbearance coiild not long have been relied on, and the 
future rival of Eome would have become as submissive a minister 
of the Persian power as were the Phenician cities themselves. If 
we turn to Spain; or if we pass the great mountain chain, which, 
prolonged through the Pyrenees, the Cevennes, the Alps, and the 
Balkan, divides Northern from . Southern JEurope, we shall find 



BATTLE OF MABATIIOK 27 

nothing at that period but mere savage Finns, Celts, Slaves and 
Teutons. Had Persia beaten Athens at Marathon, she could have 
found no obstacle to prevent Darius, the chosen servant of 
Ormuzd, from advancing his sway over all the known Western 
races of mankind. The infant energies of Europe would have 
been trodden out beneath universal conquest, and the history of 
the world, like tho history of Asia, have become a mere record of 
the rise and fall of despotic dynasties, of the incursions of 
barbarous hordes, and of the mental and political prostration of 
millions beneath the diadem, the tiara and the sword. 

Great as the preponderance of the Persian over the Athenian 
power at that crisis seems to have been, it would be unjust to 
impute wild rashness to the policy of Miltiades, and those who 
voted with him in the Athenian council of war, or to look on the 
after-current of events as the mere fortunate result of successful 
folly. As before has been remarked, Miltiades, while prince of 
the Chersonese, had seen service in the Persian armies; and he 
knew by personal observation how many elements of weakness 
lurked beneath their imposing aspect of strength. He knew that 
the bulk of their troops no longer consisted of the hardy shepherds 
and mountaineers from Persia Proper and Kurdistan, who won 
Cyrus's battles; but that unwilling contingents from conquered 
nations now filled uj) the Persian muster-rolls, fighting more from 
compulsion than from any zeal in the cause of their masters. He 
had also the sagacity and the spirit to appreciate the superiority 
of the Greek armor and organization over the Asiatic, notwith- 
standing former reverses. Above all, he felt and worthily trusted 
the enthusiasm of those whom he led. 

The Athenians whom he led had proved by their new-born 
valor in recent wars against the neighboring states that "liberty 
and equality of civic rights are brave spirit-stirring things, and 
they who, while under the yoke of a despot, had been no better 
men of war than any of their neighbors, as soon as they were free, 
became the foremost men of all; for each felt that in fighting for a 
free commonwealth, he fought for himself, and whatever he took 
in hand, he was zealous to do the work thoroughly." So the 
nearly contemporaneous historian describes the change of spirit 
that was seen in the Athenians after their tyrants were expelled ;* 
and Miltiades knew that in leading them against the invading 
army, where they had Hippias, the foe they most hated, before 
them, he was bringing into battle no ordinary men, and could cal- 

* ''AQrjvdioi jj,8v vvv rjv^rjyro- drjXdi de ov nar sv juovov 
dXXd TtayraxTJ rf Idtiyofjirf w<=> e6Ti xp^iJ.a dTtovdaior, ei xai 
ylOT/vaJoirvpavrevdjueroi jusv ovda/J.ov rear dcpea'S TtepioiHEo- 
vTGor 'idav rd TtoXefiia djusivori, dTtaXA.dxOevrs'; de rvpdv- 
VGov juaxpcp Ttp(SToi tyerpyro' drjXoi mr ravra on narexdjj.- 
§rQi juer sOEAoHd mov^ oJj dedrtdry epya^di^svov s\evBepQo^4^ 



28 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

culate on no ordinary heroism . As for traitors, he was sufe, that 
whatever treachery might lurk among some of the higher-born and 
wealthier Athenians, the rank and fil? whom he commanded were 
ready to do their utmost in his and their own cause. With regard to 
future attacks from Asia, he might reasonably hope that one 
victory would inspirit all Greece to combine against the common 
foe; and that the latent seeds of revolt and disunion in the 
Persian empire would soon burst forth and paralyze its energies, 
so as to leave Greek independence secure. 

With these hopes and risks, Miltiades, on the afternoon of a 
September day, 490 b. c, gave the word for the Athenian army to 
prepare for battle. There were many local associations connected 
with those mountain heights which were calculated powerfully to 
excite the spirits of the men, and of which the commanders well 
knew how to avail themselves in their exhortations to their troops 
before the encounter. Marathon itself was a region sacred to 
Hercules. Close to them was the fountain of Macaria, who had in 
days of yore devoted herself to death for the liberty of her people. 
The very plain on which they were to fight was the scene of the 
exploits of their national hero, Theseus : and there, too, as old 
legends told, the Athenians and the Heraclid^e had routed the in- 
vader, Eurystheus. These traditions were not mere cloudy myths 
or idle fictions, but matters of implicit earnest faith to the men of 
that day, and many a fervent prayer arose from the Athenian ranks 
to the heroic spirits who, while on earth, had striven and suffered 
en that very spot, and who were believed to be now heavenly pow- 
ers, looking down with interest on their still beloved country, and 
capable of interposing with superhuman aid in its behalf. 

According to old national custom, the warriors of each tribe 
were arrayed together ; neighbor thus fighting by the side of neigh- 
bor, friend by friend, and the spirit of emulation and the con- 
sciousness of responsibility excited to the very utmost. The War- 
ruler, Callimachus, had the leading of the right wing ; the Plataeans 
formed the extreme left ; and Themistocles and Ajistides com- 
manded the center. The line consisted of the heavy armed spear- 
men only ; for the Greeks (until the time of Iphicrates) took little 
or no account of light-armed soldiers in a pitched battle, using 
them only in skirmishes, or for the pursuit of a defeated enemy. 

vTGov de avToi £Ka6ro's kcovrw npoBvjiaETo HazEpya^edBai. — 
Hebod., lit), vl., c. 87. 

Mr. Grote's comment on this Is one of tlie most eloquent and ptillosopli- 
ical passages In his admirahle fourth volume. 

The expression "Idr/y opiy XPVM*^ ^Ttovdatov is like some lines In old 
Barlwur's poem ol " The Bruce : " 

" Ah, Fredome is a noble thing ; 
Fredome maks man to halff lyklng 
Fredome all solace to men gives. 
He lives at ease that freely lives." 



MTTLlJl OP MAHAfnOK. 29 

The panoply of the regular infantry consisted of a long spear, of a 
shield, helmet, breast-plate, greaves, and short sword. Thus 
equipped, they usually advanced slowly and steadily into action 
in a uniform phalanx of about eight spears deep. But thft military 
genius of Miltiades led him to deviate on this occasion from the 
commonplace tactics of his countrymen. It was essential for him 
to extend his line so as to cover all the practicable ground, and to 
secure himself from being outflanked and charged in the rear by 
the Persian horse. This extension involved the weakening of his 
line. Instead of a uniform reduction of its strength, he determined 
on detaching principally from his center, which, from the nature 
of the ground, would have the best opportunities for rallying, if 
broken; and on strengthening his wings so as to insure advantage 
at those points; and he trusted to his own skill and to his soldiers' 
discipline for the improvement of that advantage into decisive 
victory. * 

In this order, and availing himself probably of the inequalities 
of the ground, so as toj conceal his preparations from the enemy 
till the last possible moment, Miltiades drew uj) the eleven thou- 
sand infantry whose spears wer3 to decide this crisis in the strug- 
gle between the European and the Asiatic worlds. The sacrifices 
by which the iavor of heaven was sought, and its will consulted, 
were announced to sho\T propitious omens. The trumpet sounded 
for action, and, chanting the hymn of battle, the little army bore 
down upon the host of the foe. Then, too, along the mountain slopes 
of Marathon must have resounded the mutual exhortation, which 
.Sischylus, who fought in both battles, tells us was afterwards 
heard over the waves of Salamis : "On, sons of the Greek! 
Strike for the freedom of your country ! strike for the freedom 
of your children and of your wives — for the shrines of your 
fathers' gods, and for th^ sepulchers of your sires. All — all are now 
staked upon the strife." 

Dj TtalSEi ^EXXj^vgovj its 
^EXsv9EpovTS 7tarpi6\ eXsvOspovrs ds 
Haida'if yvraiKa'i, &egov re TtarpcoGov ed?/, 
QrjKa'-, TE Ttpoyoyaoy, JSvv vrchp itdcvrcov dycov* 

Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the phalanx 
Miltiades bro ^ght his men on at a run. They were all trained 



* It Is remarkable that tliere is no other Instance of a Greek general 
deviating- from the ordinary mode of bringing a phalanx of spearmen into 
action until the battles of Leuctra and Man tinea, more than a century after 
Marathon, when Epaminondas introduced the tactics which Alexander the 
Great in ancient times, and Frederic the Great in modern times, made so 
famous, of concentrating an overpowering force to hear on some decisive 
point of the enemy's line, while he kept back, or, in military phrase, refused 
the weaker part of his own. *' Persai," 4uiS. 



36 DECISIVE BATTLED. 

in the exercises cf the palaestra, so that there was no fear of their 
ending the charge in breathless exhaustion ; and it was of the 
deepest importance for him to traverse as rapidly as possible the 
mile or so of level ground that lay between the mountain foot 
and the Persian outpost, and so to get his troops into close action 
before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form and maneuver 
against him, or their archers kept him long under fire, and before 
the enemy's generals could fairly deploy their masses. 

"When the Persians," says Herodotus, "saw the Athenians 
running down on them, without horse or bowmen, and scanty in 
numbers, they thought them a set of madmen rushing upon cer- 
liiin destruction." They began, however, to prepare to receive 
L.ieni, and the Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly as time and place 
allowed, the varied races who served in their motly ranks. Moun- 
taineers from Hyrcania and Afghanistan, wild horsemen from the 
steppes of Khorassan, and black archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen 
from the banks of the Indus, and Oxus, the Euphrates, and the 
Nile, made ready against the enemies of the great King. But no 
national cause inspired them except tho division of native Per- 
sians ; and in the large host there was no uniformity of language, 
creed, race, or military system. Still, among thtm there were 
many gallant men, under a veteran general ; they were familiarized 
with victory, and in contemptuous confidence, their infantry 
which alone had time to form, awaited the Athenian charge. On 
came the Greeks, with one unwavering line of leveled spears, against 
which the light targets, the short lances andcimeters of the Orien- 
tals, offered weak defense. The front rank of the Asiatics must 
have gone down to a man at the first shock. Still they recoiled 
not, but strove by individual gallantry and by weight of num- 
bers to make up for the disadvantages of weapons and tactics, 
and to bear back the shallow lines of the Europeans. In the 
center, where the native Persians and the Sacse fought, they suc- 
ceeded in breaking through the weakened part of the Athenian 
phalanx ; and the tribes led by Aristides and Themistocles were, 
after a brave resistance, driven back over the plain, and chased 
by the Persians up the valley toward the inner country. There 
the nature of the ground gave the opportunity of rallying and 
renewing the struggle. , Meanwhile, the Greek wings, where 
Miltiades had concentrated his chief strength, had routed the 
Asiatics opposed to them ; and the Athenian and Plattean of- 
ficers, instead of pursuing the fugitives, kept their troops well 
in hand, and wheeling round, they formed the two wings to, 
gether. Miltiades instantly led them against the Persian center, 
which had hitherto been triumphant, but which now fell back, 
and prepared to encounter those new and unexpected assailants. 
Aristmes and Themistocles renewed the tight with their reorgan- 
ized troops, and the full force of the Greeks was brought into 
close action with the Persian and S.iciun divisions of the enemy. 



BATTLE OP MARATHON. Si 

Datis's veterans strove hard to keep their ground, and evening* 
^A'as approaching before the stern encounter was decided. 

But the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, destitute of 
body-armor, and never taught by training to keep the even front 
and act with the regular movement of the Greek infantry, fought 
at heavy disadvantage with their shorter and feebler weapons 
against the compact array of well-armed Athenian and Plataean 
spearmen, all perfectly drilled to perform each necessary evolution 
in concert, and to preserve a uniform and unwavering line in bat- 
tle. In personal courage and in bodily activity the Persians wera 
not inferior to their adversaries. Their spirits were not yet cowed 
by the recollection of former defeats; and they lavished their lives 
freely, rather than forfeit the fame which they had won by so many 
victories. While their rear ranks poured an incessant shower of 
arrows \ over the heads of their comrades, the foremost Persians 
kept rushing forward, sometimes singly, sometimes in desperate 
groups of twelve or ten upon the projecting spears of the Greeks, 
striving to force a lane into the phalanx, and to bring their cime- 
ters and daggers into play. J But the Greeks felt their superiority, 
and though the fatigue of the long-continued action told heavily 
on their inferior numbers, the sight of the carnage that they dealt 
upon their assailants nerved them to fight still more fiercely on. 

At last the previously un vanquished lords of Asia turned their 
backs and fled, and the Greeks followed, striking them down, to 
the water's edge, § where the invaders were now hastily launching 
their galleys, and seeking to embark and fly. Flushed with suc- 
cess, the Athenians attacked and strove to fire the fleet. But here 
the Asiatics resisted desperately, and the principal loss sustained 
by the Greeks was in the assault' on the ships. Here fell the brave 
War-ruler Callimachus, the general Stesilaus, and other Athenians 
of note. Seven galleys were fired; but the Persians succeeded in 

* L4AA,' ojj.GO'^ aTtGodojiisdOa ^vv BeoK itpoi edTtepa—AmsTOvmi 
Vespae. 1084. 
f 'EjuaxojuedO^ avroidty 6v/j.ov o^ivrjv 7t8TtGOHOTE<^, 

Srdi dvr/p jtap avSp, vr bpyrji rr/v x^^'^'^V'^ sdQiaov 
^T^Ttode TcSv To^syjudtGov ovk rjv idEivzov ovpavov. 

ARISTOPH., Vespae, 1082. 

X See the description in tlie 62d section of tlie nintli book of Herodotus oi 
the gallantry sliown by the Persian infantry against the Lacedaemonians at 
Platsea. We have no similar detail of the fight at Marathon, but we know 
that it was long and obstinately contested (see the 113th section of the sixth 
book of Herodotus, and the lines from the Vespae already quoted), and tlie 
spirit of the Persians must have been even higher at Marathon than at 
Platsea. In both battles it was only the true Persians and the Sacse who 
showed this valor : the other Asiatics fled like sheep. 
i The flying Mede, his shaltless broken bow ; 

The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear ; 

Mountains above, Earth's, ocean's plain below. 

Death in the front, Destruction in the rear ! 

Sucli was the scene.— BykoK's ClUlde Harold. 



52 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

saving the rest. They pushed off from the fatal shore; bnt even 
here the skill of Datis did not deseii; him, and he sailed round to 
the western coast of Attica, in hopes to tind the city unprotected, 
and to gain possession of it from some of the partisans of Hippias. 
Miltiades, however, saw and counteracted his maneuver. Leaving 
Aristides, and the troops of his tribe, to guard the spoil and the 
slain, the Athenian commander led his conquering army by a rapid 
night-march back across the country to Athens. And when the 
Persian fleet had doubled the Cape of Sunium and sailed up to 
the Athenian harbor in the morning, Datis saw arrayed on the 
heights above the city the troops before whom his men had fled on 
the preceding evening. All hope of further conquest in Europe 
for the time was abandoned, and the baflied armada returned to 
the Asiatic coasts. 

After the battle had been fought, but while the dead bodies 
were yet on the ground, the promised re-enforcements from Sparta 
arrived. Two thousand Laceda?monian spearmen, starting im- 
mediately after the full moon, had marched the hundred and fifty 
miles between Athens and Sparta in the wonderfully short time of 
three days. Though too late to share in the glory of the action, 
they requested to be allowed to march to the battle-field to behold 
the Medes. They proceeded thither, gazed on the dead bodies of 
the invaders, and then, praising the Athenians and what they had 
done, they returned to Laceda?mon. 

The number of the Persian dead was 6400 ; of the Athenians, 
192. The number of the Plataans who fell is not mentioned; but, 
as they fought in the part of the army which was not broken, it can 
not have been large. 

The apparent disproportion between the losses of the two armies 
is not surprising when we remember the armor of the Greek spear- 
men, and the impossibility of heavy slaughter being inflicted by 
sword or lance on troops so armed, as long as they kept firm in their 
ranks.* 

The Athenian slain were buried on the field of battle. This was 
contrary to the usual custom, according to which the bones of all 
who fell fighting for their country in each year were deposited in 
a public sepulcher in the suburb of Athens called the Cerameicus. 
But it was felt that a distinction ought to be made in the funeral 
honor's paid to the men of Marathon, even as their merit had been 
distingiiished over that of all other Athenians. A lofty mound was 
raised on the plain of Marathon, beneath which the remains of the 
men of Athens who fell in the battle were deposited. Ten columns 
were erected on the spot, one for each of the Athenian tribes ; and 
on the monumental column of each tribe were graven the names 
of those of its members whose glory it was to have fallen in the 

* Mitford well refers to Crecy, Poictiers, and Agincoujjt as instances %«t 
similar disparity oi loss t)etween tlie conquerei-8 and tlie conquered. 



BATTLE OF MABATEON', 33 

great battle of liberation. The antiquarian Pausanias read those 
names there six hundred years after the time when they were first 
graven. * The columns have long perished, but the mound still 
m^rks the spot where the noblest heroes of antiquity, the Mapa- 
doovoT/axoi, repose. 

A separate tumulus was raised over the bodies of the slain Pla- 
tseans, and another over the light-armed slaves who had taken part 
and had fallen in the battle, f There was also -a separate funeral 
monument to the general to whose genius the victory was mainly 
,due. Miltiades did not live long after his achievement at Mara- 
thon, but he lived long enough to experience a lamentable reyerf-e 
of his popularity and success. As soon as the Persians had quitted 
the western coasts of the Mgsesji, he proposed to an assembly of 
the Athenian people that they should fit out seventy galleys, with 
a proportionate force of soldiers and military stores, and place it 
at his disposal; not telling them whither he meant to lead it, but 
promising them that if they would equip the force he asked for, 
and give him discretionary powers, he would lead it to a land 
where there was gold in abundance to be won with ease. The 
Greeks of that time believed in the existence of Eastern realms 
teeming with gold, as firmly as' the Europeans of the sixteenth 
century believed in El Dorado of the West. The Athenians prob- 
ably thought that the recent victor of Marathon, and the former 
officer of Darius, was about to lead them on a secret expedition 
Against some wealthy and unprotected cities of treasure in the Per- 
sian dominions. The armament was voted and equipped, and 
sailed eastward from Attica, no one but Miltiades knowing its dis- 
tination until the Greek isle of Pares was reached, when his true 
objv^ct appearv^d. In former years, while connected with the Per- 
sians as prince of the Chersonese, Miltiades had been involved in 
a quarrel with vine of the leading men among the Parians, who 
had i.ujured his credit and caused some slights to be put upon him 
at the court of the Persian satrap Hydarnes. The feud had ever 
since rankled in the heart of the Athenian chief, and he now at- 
tacked Paros for the sake of avenging himself on his ancient enemy. 
His pretext, as general of the Athenians, was, that the Parians had 
aided the armament of Datis with a war-galley. The Parians pre- 
tended to treat about terms of surrender, but used the time which 

* Pausanias states, Av^lth implicit hellef , that the hattle-field was haunted 
at night by fiupernatui al heings, and that the noise of comhatants and the 
snorting of horses were heard to resound on it. The superstition has sur- 
vived the chaiige of crev'jds, and the shepherds of the neighborhood still be- 
lieve that specrral warriors contend on the plain at midnight, and they say 
that they have heard the shouts of the combatants and the neighing of the 
steeds. See Grote and llxirlwall. 

t It is probable that the Greek light-armed irregulars were active in the 
attack on the Persian ships, and it was in this attack that the Greeks suSer- 
ed their principal loss. 

D.B.--2 '- 



U ' DECISIVE BATTLES. 

they thus gained in repairing the defective parts of the fortifica- 
tions of their city, and they then set the Athenians at defiance. So 
far, says Herodotus, the accounts of all the Greeks agree. But the 
Parians in after years tohi also a "v\ild legend, how a captive priest- 
ess of a Parian temple of the Deities of the tarth promised Milti- 
»des to give him the means of captxiring Paros; how, at her bid- 
ding, the Athenian general went alone at night and forced his way 
into a holy shrine, near the city gate, but with what purpose it 
was not known; how a supernatural awe ^ame over him, and in 
his flight he fell and fractured his leg; how an oracle afterward 
forbade the Parians to punish the sacrilegious and traitorous priest- 
ess, "because it was fated that Miltiades should come to an ill 
end, and she was only the instrument to lead him to evil." Such 
was the tale that Herodotus heard at Paros. Certain it was that 
Miltiades either dislocated or broke his leg during an unsuccess- 
ful siege of the city, and returned home in evil plight with his baf- 
fled and defeated forces. 

The indignation of the Athenians was proportionate to the hope 
and excitement which his promises had raised. Xanthippus, the 
head of one of the first families in Athens, indicted him before the 
supreme popular tribunal for the capital oflense of having deceived 
the people. His guilt was undeniable, and the Athenians passed 
their verdict accordingly. Put the recollections of Lemnos and 
Marathon, and the sight of the fallen general, who lay stretched 
on a couch before them, pleaded successfully in mitigation of pun- 
ishment, and the sentence was commuted from death to a fine of 
fifty talents. This was paid by his son, the afterward illustrious 
Cimon, Miltiades dying, soon after the trial, of the injury which 
he had received at Paros.* 

* Tlie commonplace calumnies asrainsttlie Athenians respecting I^riltiades 
liave l)een well answered by Sir Edward I.j-tton Bulwer in Ills " Rise and 
Fall of Athens," and Bishop Thirlwall in the second volume of Ms " History 
of Greece ;" but they have received their most complete refutation from Mr. 
Grote, inthe fourth volume of his History, p. 4i>o. et. seq., and notes. I 
quite concur with him that, "looking to the oraetice of the Athenian dica&- 
tery in criminal cases, that fifty talents w^ts the minor penality actually 
proposed by the defendoi-s of Miltiades themselves as a substitute for the 
punishment of death. In those penal cases at Athens where the punish- 
ment was not fixed beforehand by the terms of the law. if the person ac- 
cused was found guilty, it was customary to submit to the jurore subse- 
quently and separately the question as to amount of punishment. First, 
the accuser named the penalty which he thoucht suitable; next, the ac- 
cused pei-son was called upon to name an amo\mt of penalty for hhuseU, 
and the jurors were constrained to take theii- choice between these two. no 
thii-d gradation of penalty being admissable for consideration. Of course, 
under such circumstances, it was the inteivst of the accused party to name, 
even in his own case, some real and serious penaltv, something wliich the 
jurors might be lilvCly to deem not wholly inadequate to his crime just 
proved ; lor If he y reposed some penalty onlv trifllnsr. lie drove thon to pre- 
fer the hea^•ler sentence recommended by hi* c^r<">nejit " 'J he stories Of 
JiiltiaAies iiaving been ca;st into prition and clica tuere, and of his havin^ 



4 
BATTLE OF MABATEON. " 35 

TTie melancholy end of Miltiades, after his elevation to such a 
height of power and glory, must often have been recalled to the 
minds of the ancient Greeks by the sight of one in particular of 
the memorials of the great battle which he won. This was the re- 
markable statue (minutely described by Pausanias) which the 
Athenians, in the time of Pericles, caused to be hewn out of a huge 
block of marble, which, it was believed, had been provided by 
Datis, to form a trophy of the anticipated victory of the Persians. 
Phidias fashioned out of this a colossal image of the goddess, 
Nemesis, the deity whose peculiar function was to visit the exuber- 
ant prosperity both of nations and individuals with sudden and 
awful reverses. This statue was placed in a temple of the goddess 
at Khamnus, about eight miles from Marathon. Athens itself con- 
tained numerous memorials of her primary great victory. Panenus, 
the cousin of Phidias, represented it in fresco on the walls of the 
painted porch; and, centuries afterward, the figures of Miltiades 
and Callimachus at the head of the Athenians were conspicuous 
in the fresco. The tutelary deities were exhibited taking part in 
the fray. In the back-ground were seen the Phenician galleys, 
and, nearer to the spectator, the Athenians and Platasans (dis- 
tinguished by their leather helmets) were chasing routed Asiatics 
into the marshes and the sea. The battle was sculptured also on 
the Temple of Victory in the Acropolis, and even now there may 
be traced on the frieze the figures of the Persian combatants with 
their lunar shields, their bows and quivers, their curved cimeters, 
their loose trowsers, and Phrygian tiaras.* 

These and other memorials of Marathon were the produce of 
the meridian age of Athenian intellectual splendor, of the age of 
Phidias and Pericles ; for it was not merely by the generation 
■whom the battle liberated from Hippias and the Medes that the 
transcendent importance of their victory was grateftilly recog- 
nized. Through the whole epoch of her pros])erity, through the 
long Olympiads of her decay, through centuries after her fall, 
Athens looked back on the day of Marathon as the brightest of her 
national existence. 

been saved fromi death only by the Interposition of the prytanls of the day, 
are, I think, rightly rejected hy Mr. Grote as the tictions of after ages. The 
silence of Herodotus respecting them is decisive. It is true that Plato, In 
the Gorgias, says that the Athenians passed a vote to throw Miltiades into 
the Barathrum, and speaks of the interposition of the pr^tanis In his favor ; 
hut it is to he rememhered that Plato, with all his transcendent genius, 
was as Niehuhr has termed him, a very Indifferent patriot, who loved to 
blacken the character of his country's democratical institutions; and if 
the tact was not that the prytanis, at the trial of Miltiades. opposed the 
vote of capital punishment, and spoke in favor of the milder sentence, Plato 
(in a passage written to show the misfortunes that befell Athenian states- 
men) would readily exaggerate this fact Into the story that appears In hla 
text. 
* Wordswor^'h's " Greece," p. 115. 



S6 DEGISIVE BATTLES. 

By a natural blending of patriotic pride with grateful piety, 
the very spirits of the Athenians who fell at Marathon were deified 
by their countrymen. The inhabitants of the district of Mara- 
thon paid religious rites to them ; and orators solemnly invoked 
them in their most impassioned adjurations before the assembled 
men of Athens. "Nothing was omitted that could keep alive 
the remembrance of a deed which had first taught the Athenian 
people to know its own strength, by measuring it with the power 
which had subdued the greater part of the known world. The 
consciousness thus awakened fixed its character, its station, and its 
destiny ; it was the spring of its later great actions and ambitious 
enterprises.* 

It was not indeed by one defeat, however signal, that the pride 
of Persia could be broken, and her dreams of universal empire 
dispelled. Ten years afterward she renewed her attempts upon 
Europe upon a grander scale of enterprise, and was repulsed by 
Greece with greater and reiterated loss. Larger forces and heav- 
ier slaughter than had been seen at Marathon signalized the con- 
flicts of Greeks and Persians t^ Artemisium, Salamis, Platsea, and 
the Earymedon. But, mighty and momentous as these battles 
were, they ranked not with Marathon in importance. They orig- 
inated no new impulse. They turned back no current of fate. 
They were merely confirmatory of the already existing bias which 
Marathon had created . The day of Marathon is the critical epoch 
in the history of the two nations. It broke forever the spell of 
Persian invincibility, which had previously paralyzed men's 
minds. It generated among the Greeks the spirit which beat back 
Xerxes, and afterward led onXenephon, Agorilaus, and Alexander, 
in terrible retaliation through their Asiatic campaigns. It se- 
cured for mankind the intellectual treasures of Athens, the growth 
of free institutions, the liberal enlightenment of the Western 
world, and the gradual ascendency for many ages of the great 
principle of Europeau civilization. 



EXPLANATOKT KeMAKKS ON SOME OF THE CeECTJMSTANCES OP 

THE BaitttjE oe Marathon. 

Nothing is said by Herodotus of the Persian cavalry taking any 
part in the battle, although he mentions that Hippias recom- 
mended the Persians to land at Marathon, because the plan was 
favorable for cavaljs'y revolutions. In the life of Miltiades, which 
is usually cited as the production of Cornelius Nepos, but which I 
believe to be of no authority whetever, it is said that Miltiades 

* Tliiiiwall. 



BATTLE OF IIABATMOM, 37 

protected ms flanks from the enemy's horse by an abatis of felled 
trees. While he was on the high ground he would not have re- 
quired this defense, and it is not likely that the Persians would 
have allowed him to erect it on the plain. 

Bishop Thirlwall calls our attention to a passage in Suidas, 
where the proverb Xwpii iititeli is said to have originated from 
some Ionian Greeks who were serving compulsorily in the army 
of Datis, contriving to inform Miltiades that the Persian cavalry 
had gone away, whereupon Miltiades immediately joined battle 
and gained the victory. There may probably be a gleam oi 
truth in this legend. If Datis's cavalry was numerous, as the 
abundant pastures of Euboea were close at hand, the Persian gen^ 
eral, when he thought, from the inaction of his enemy, that they 
did not mean to come down from the heights and give battle, 
might naturally send the larger ps,rt of his horse back across the 
channel to the neighborhood of Eretria, where he had already left 
a detachment, and where his military stores must have been de- 
posited. The knowledge of such a movement would of course 
confirm Miltiades in his resolution to bring on a speedy en- 
gagement. ^ 

But, in truth, whatever amount of cavalry we suppose Datis 
to have had with him on the day of Marathon, their inaction in 
the battle is intelligible, if we believe the attack of the Athenian 
spearmen to have been as sudden as it was rapid. The Persian 
horse-soldier, on an alarm being given, had to take the chackles 
off his horse, to strap the saddle on, and bridle him, besides equip- 
ping himself (see Xenoph., " Anab.," lib. iii. c. 4.); and when each 
individual horseman was ready, the line had to be formed ; and 
the time it takes to form the Oriental cavalry in line for a charge 
has, in all ages, been observed by Europeans. 

The wet state of the marshes at each end of the plain, in the 
time of the year when the battle was fought, has been adverted to 
by Mr. Wordsworth, and this would hinder the Persian general 
from arranging and employing his horsemen on his extreme wings, 
while it also enabled the Greeks, as they came forward, to oc- 
cupy the whole breadth of the practicable ground with an un- 
broken line of leveled spears, against which, if any Persian horse 
advanced, they would be driven back in confusion upon their own 
foot. 

Even numerous and fully-arrayed bodies of cavalry have been 
repeatedly broken, both in ancient and modern warfare, by reso- 
lute charges of infantry. For instance, it was by an attack of 
some picked cohorts that Caesar routed the Pompeian cavalry 
(which had previously defeated his own), and won the battle of 
Pharsalia. 

I havG represented the battle of Marathon as beginning in the 
afternoon and ending toward evening. If it had lasted all day, 
Herodotus would have probably mentioned that fact. That it 



38 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

ended toward evening is, I think, proved by the line from the 
" Vespge," which I have already quoted, and to which my attention 
was called by Sir Edward Bulwer's account of the battle. I think 
that the succeeding lines in Aristophanes, also already quoted, 
justify the description which I have given of the rear ranks of the 
Persians keeping up a fire of arrows over the heads of their com- 
rades, as the Normans did at Hastings. 



Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Maeathon, b. c. 490. 
AND the Defeat of the Athenians at Sykacuse, B. C 413. 

B, C. 490 to 487. All Asia filled with the preparations made by 
King Darius for a new expedition against Greece. Themistocles 
persuades the Athenians to leave off dividing the proceeds of their 
silver mines among themselves, and to employ the money in 
strengthening their navy . 

487. Egypt revolts from the Persians, and Relays the expedition 
against Greece. 

485. Darius dies, and Xerxes his son becomes King of Persia in 
his stead. 

481 The Persians recover Egypt. 

480. Xerxes invades Greece. Indecisive actions between the 
Persian and Greek fleets at Artemisium. Destruction of the three 
hundred Spartans at Thermopylae. The Athenians abandon 
Attica and go on shipboard. Great naval victory of the Greeks at 
Salamis. Xerxes returns to Asia, leaving a chosen army under 
Mardonius to carry on the war against the Greeks. 

478. Mardonius and his army destroyed by the Greeks at Pla- 
tsea. The Greeks land in Asia Minor, and defeat a Persian force 
at Mycale. In this and the following years the Persians lose all 
their conquests in Europe, and many on the coast of Asia. 

477. Many of the Greek maritime states take Athens as their 
leader instead of Sparta. 

466. Victories of Cimon over the Persians at the Eurymedon. 

464. Bevolt of the Helots against Sparta. Third Messenian 
■war. 

460. Egypt again revolts against Persia. The Athenians send a 
powerful armament to aid the Egyptians, which, after gaining 
some successes, is destroyed; and Egypt submits. This war lasted 
six years. 

457. Wars in Greece between the Athenian and several Pelopon- 
nesian states. Immense exertions of Athens at this time, " There 
is an original inscription still preserved in the Louvre which at- 
tests the energies of Athens at this crisis, when Athens, like Eng- 
land in modern wars, at once sought conquests abroad and re- 
pelled enemies at home. At the period we now advert to (b. q 



SYNOPSIS OF INTEUVEmNQ EVENTS. 39 

^57), an Athenian armament of two Imndred galleys was engaged 
in a bold though nnsuccessful expedition against Egypt. The 
Athenian crews had landed, had won' a battle; they had then re- 
embarked and sailed up the Nile, and were busily besieging the 
Persian garrison at Memphis. As the complement of a trireme 
galley was at least two hundred men, we can not estimate the 
forces then employed by Athens against Egypt at less than forty 
thousand men. At the same time, she kept squadrons on the 
coasts of Phenicia and Cyprus, and yet maintained a home fleet 
that enabled her to defeat her Peloponnesian enemies at Cecry- 
phalse and ^gina, capturing in the last engagement seventy gal- 
leys. This last fact may give us some idea of the strength of the 
Athenian home fleet that gained the victory, and by adopting tbg 
same ratio of multiplying whatever number of galleys we suppos*:' 
to have been employed by two hundred so as to gain the aggregate 
number of the crews, we may form some estimate of the foroe^ 
which this little Greek state then kept on foot. Between sixty 
and seventy thousand men must have served in her fieets during 
that year. Her tenacity of purpose was equal to her boldness ol 
enterprise. Sooner than yield or withdraw froir*i a^y of their ex- 
peditions, the Athenians at this very time, wken Corinth sent an 
army to attack their garrison at Megara did &ot recall a single crew 
or a single soldier from Mgino. or from alvoad; but the lads and 
old men, who had been left to guard the ity, fought and won a 
battle against these new assailants. Tje inscription which we 
have referred to is graven on a votive tal let to the memory of the 
dead, erected in that year by the Erechthean tribe, one of the ten 
into which the Athenians were divided. It shows, as ThirlwalJ 
has remarked, 'that the Athenians were conscious ol the greatness 
of their own effort;' and in it this little civic community of the an. 
cient world still 'records to us with eoiphatic simplicity, that its 
slain fell in Cyprus, in Egypt, in Phenicia, at Halise. in Mgrna., 
inMegd^xd., in the same year.'"* 

445. A thirty years' truce concluded between Athens and Liac- 

edaemon. , «. ^t ± 

440. The Samians endeavor to throw off the supremacy of 
Athens. Samos completely reduced to subjection. Pericles is 
now sole director of the Athenian councils. ^ 

431. Commencement of the great Peloponnesian war, m which 
Sparta, at the head of nearly all the Peloponnesian states, and 
aided by the Boeotians and some of the other Greeks beyond the 
Isthmus, endeavors to reduce the power of Athens, and to restore 
independence to the Greek maritime states who were the subject 
allies of Athens. At the commencement of the war the Pelopon- 
nesian armies repeatedly invade and ravage Attica, but Athens* 



* Paeans o£ tlie Athenian Navy. 



40 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

herself is impregnable, and lier fleets secure her the dominion of 
the sea. 

430. Athens visited by a pestilence, which sweeps off large num- 
bers of her population. 

425. The Athenians gain great advantages over the Spartans at 
Sphacteria, and by occupying Cythera: but they suffer a severe 
defeat in Boeotia, and the Spartan general, Brasidas, leads an ex- 
pedition to the Thracian coasts, and conquers many of the most 
valuable Athenian possessions in those regions. 

421. Nominal truce for thirty years between Athens and Sparta, 
but hostilities continue on the Thracian coast and in other 
quarters. 

415. The Athenians send an expedition to conquer Sicily. 



CHAPTER n. 

DEFEAT OP THE ATHENIANS AT STBACUSE, B. C. 413, 

The Eomans knew not, and could not know, how deeply tlie greatness of 
their own posterity, and the fate of the whole Western world, were involved 
in the destruction of the fleet of Athens in the harhor of Syracuse. Had that 
great expedition proved victorious, the energies of Greece during the next 
eventful century would have found their field in the West no less than in 
the East; Greece, and not Rome, might have conquered Carthage; Greek 
Instead of Latin might have heen at this day the principal element of the 
language of Spain, of France, and of Italy ; and the laws of Athens, rather 
than of Eome, might be the foundation of the law of the civilized world.— 
Abnold. 

Few cities have undergone more memorable sieges during an- 
cient and media3val times than has the city of Syracuse. Athen- 
ian, Carthaginian, Roman, Vandal, Byzantine, Saracen, and 
Norman, have in turns beleagured her walls; and the resistance 
, which she successfully opposed to some of her early assailants 
was of the deepest importance, not only to the fortunes of the gen- 
erations then in being, but to all the subsequent current of human 
events. To adopt the eloquent expressions of Arnold respecting 
the check which she gave to the Carthaginian arms, "Syracuse 
was a breakwater which God's providence raised up to protect 
the yet immature strength of Rome." And her triumphant repulse 
of the great Athenian expedition against her was of even more 
wide-spread and enduring importance. It forms a decisive epoch 
in the strife for universal empire, in which all the great states of 
antiquity successively engaged and failed. 

The present city of Syracuse is a place of little or no military 
strength, as the fire of artillery from the neighboring heights would 
almost completely command it. But in ancient warfare, its posi' 



DEFEAT OF THE ATHEKIAKS, 4l 

tion, and the care bestowed on its -walls, rendered it formidably 
strong against the means of offense wliich then were employed by 
besieging armies. 

The ancient city, in its most prosperous times, was chiefly 
built on the knob of land which projects into the sea on the east- 
em coast of Sicily, between two bays; one of which, to the north, 
was called the Bay of Thapsus, while the southern one formed the 
great harbor of the city of Syracuse itself. A small island, or pe- 
ninsula (for such it soon was rendered), lies at the south-eastern 
extremity of this knob of land, stretching almost entirely across 
the mouth of the great harbor, and rendering it nearly land- 
locked. This island comprised the original settlement of the first 
Greek colonists from Corinth, who founded Syracuse two thousand 
five hundred years ago; and the modern city has shrunk again 
into these primary limits. But, in the fifth century before our 
era, the growing wealth and population of the Syracusans had led 
them to occupy and include within their city walls portion after 
portion of the main land lying next to the little isle, so that at the 
time of the Athenian expedition the seaward part of the land be- 
tween the two bays already spoken of was built over, and fortified 
from bay to bay, and constituted the larger part of Syracuse. 

The landward wall, therefore, of this district of the city, trav- 
ersed this knob of land, which continues to slope upward from 
the sea, and which, to the west of the old ^fortifications ( that is 
toward the interior of Sicily), rises rapidly for a mile or two, 
but diminishes in width, and finally terminates in a long narrow 
ridge, between which and Mount Hybla a succession ot chasms 
and uneven low ground extends. On each flank of this ridge 
the descent is steep and precipitous from its summits to the stripe 
of level land that lie immediately below it, both to the south- 
west and northwest. 

The usual mode of assailing fortified towns in the time of the 
"Peloponnesian war was to build a double wall round them, suf- 
ficiently strong to check any sally of the garrison from within, or 
any attack of a relieving force from without. The interval with- 
in the two walls of the circumvallation was roofed over, and 
formed^ barracks, in which the besiegers posted themselves, and 
awaited the effects of want or treachery among the besieged in 
producing a surrender ; and, in every Greek city of those days, 
as in every Italian republic of the Middle Ages, the rage of do- 
mestic sedition between aristocrats and democrats ran high. 
Kancorous refugees swarmed in the camp of every invading en- 
emy ; and every blockaded city was sure to contain within its 
wails a body of intriguing malcontents, who were eager to pur- 
chase a party triumph at the expense of a national disaster. 
Famine and faction were the allies on whom besiegers relied. 
The generals of that time trusted to the operation of these sure 
■y)nfederates as soon as they could establish a complete blockade. 



^2 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

They rarely T'Or.t''d»?'l on the attempt to storm any fortified post, 
for the military engines of antiquity were feeble in breaching 
masonry before the improvements which the first Dionysins ef- 
fected in the mechanics of destruction ; and the lives of spear- 
men the boldest and most high-trained would, of course, have 
been idly spent in charges against unshattered walls. 

A city built close to the sea, like Syracupe,was impregnable, 
save by the combined operations of a superior hostile fleet and a 
superior hostile army ; and Syracuse, from her size, her popu- 
lation, and her military and naval resources, not unnaturally 
thought herself secure from finding in another Greek city a foe' 
capable of sending a sufficient armament to menace her with 
capture and subjection. But in the spring of 414 b. c, the Athen- 
ian navy was mistress of her harbor and the adjacent seas ; an 
Athenian army had defeated her troops, and cooped them with- 
in the town ; and from bay to bay a blockading wall was being 
rapidly carried across the strips of level ground and the high 
ridge outside the city (then termed Epipolae), which, if completed, 
would have cut the Syracusans off from all succor from the inter- 
ior of Sicily, and have left them at the mercy of the Athenian 
generals. The besiegers' works were, indeed, unfinished ; but 
every day the unfortified interval in their lines grew narrower, 
and with it diminished all apparent hope of safety for the be- 
leagured town. 

Athens was now staking the flower of her forces, and the ac- 
cumulated fruits of seventy years of glory, on one bold throw for 
the dominion of the Western world. As Napoleon from Mount 
Coeur de Lion pointed to St. Jean d'Acre, and told his stafi" that 
the capture of that town would decide his destiny and would 
■change the face of the world, so the Athenian oificers, from the 
heights of Epipolee, must have looked on Syracuse, and felt that 
(s-ith its fall all the known powers of the earth would fall be- 
neath them. They must have felt, also, that Athens, if repulsed 
there, must pause forever from her career of conquest, and sink 
from an imperial republic into a ruined and subservient commu- 
nity. 

At Marathon, the first in date of the great battles of the world, 
we beheld Athens struggling for self-preservation against the in- 
vading armies of the East. At Syracuse she appears as the 
ambitious and oppressive invader of others. In her, as in other 
republics of old and of modern times, the same energy that had 
inspired the most heroic efi'orts in defense of the national indepen- 
dence, soon learned to employ itself in daring and unscrupulous 
schemes of self-aggrandizement at the expense of neighboring 
nations. In the interval between the Persian and the Pelponnesian 
wars she had rapidly grown into a conquering and dominant state, 
the chief of a thousand tributary cities, and the mistress of the 
largest and best-manned navy that the Mediterranean had yet 



DEFEAT OF TEE ATEENIANa. 43 

beheld. The occupations of her territory by Xerxes ,d I^rar- 
donius, in the second Persian war, had forced her whole popula- 
tion to become mariners; and the glorious results of that struggle 
confirmed them in their zeal for their country's service at sea. 
The voluntary suffrage of the Greek cities of the coasts and islands 
of the ^gffian first placed Athens at the head of the confederation 
formed for the further prosecution of the war against Persia. But 
this titular ascendency was soon converted by her into practical 
and atbitrary dominion. She protected them from piracy and 
the Persian power, which soon fell into decrepitude and decay, 
but she exacted in return implicit obedience to herself. She 
claimed and enforced a prerogative of tuning them at her dis- 
cretion, and proudly refused to be accountable for her mode of 
expending their supplies. Kemonstrance against her assessments 
was treated as factious disloyalty, and refusal to pay was promptly 
punished as revolt. Permitting and encouraging her subject 
allies to furnish all their contingents in money, instead of part 
consisting of ships and mf-n, the sovereign republic gained the 
double object of training her own citizens by constant and well- 
paid service in her fleets, and of seeing her confederates lose their 
skill and discipline by inaction, and become more and more pas- 
sive and powerless under her yoke. Their towns were generally 
dismantled, while the imperial city herself was fortified with the 
greatest care and sumptuousness; the accumulated revenues from 
her tributaries serving to strengthen and adorn to the utmost her 
havens, her docks, her arsenals, her theaters and her shrines, and 
to array her in that pientitude of architectural magnificence, the 
ruins of which still attest the intellectual grandeur of the age and 
people which produced a Pericles to plan and a Phidias to execute. 
All republics that acquire supremacy over other nations rule 
them selfishly and oppressively. There is no exception to this in 
I either ancient or modern times. Cartb-^^ge, Eome, Venice, Genoa, 
Florence, Pisa, Holland, and Kepubliwan France, all tyrannized 
over every province and subject state where they gained authority. 
But none of them openly avowed their system of doing so upon 
principle with the candor which the Athenian republicans dis- 
played when any remonstrance was made against the severe ex- 
actions which 'they imposed upon their vassal allies. They avowed 
that their empire was a tyranny, and frankly stated that thtey 
solely trusted to force and terror to uphold it. They appealed to 
what they called " the eternal law of nature, that the weak should 
be coerced by the strong."* Sometimes they stated, and not with- 
out some truth, that the unjust hatred of Sparta against themselves 
forced them to be unjust to others in self-defense. To be safe, 
they must be powerful; and to be powerful,, they must plunder 

* ''Aei KaQsdrc^TO's roi nddao vjto dwaTGoreoov KavsipyedBau 
Thuc, 1., 11, I I ^ 



M lkcisive battles. 

and coerce their neiglibors. Tliey never dreamed of communicat- 
ing any franchise, or share in office, to their dependents, biit 
jealousy monopolized every post of command, and all political 
and judicial power; exposing themselves to every risk with un- 
flinching gallantrj'; embarking readily in every ambitious scheme; 
and never suffering difficulty or disaster to shake their tenacity of 
purpose: in the hope of acquiring unbounded empire for their 
country, and the means of maintaining each of the thirty thousand 
citizens who made up the sovereign republic, in exclusive devo- 
tion to military occupations, and to those brilliant sciences and 
arts in which Athens already had reached the meridian of intel- 
lectual splendor. 

Her great political dramatist speaks of the Athenian empire as 
comprehending a thousand states. The language of the stage 
must not be taken too literally; but the number of the dependen- 
cies of Athens, at the time when the Peloponnesian confederacy 
attacked her, was undoubtedly very great. With a few trifling 
exceptions, all the islands of the .ffigaean, and all the Greek cities, 
which in that age fringed the coasts of Asia Minor, the Hellespont 
and Thrace, paid tribute to Athens, and implicitly obej^ed her 
orders. The .Slgaean Sea was an Attic lake. Westward of Greece, 
her influence, though strong, was not equally predominant. She 
had colonies and allies among the wealthy and populous Greek 
settlements in Sicily and South Italy, but she had no organized 
system of confederates in those regions; and her gallej'S brought 
her no tribute from the Western seas. The extension of her em- 
pire over Sicily was the favorite project of her ambitious orators 
and generals. While her great statesman, Pericles, lived, his com- 
mandiiig genius kept his countrymen under control, and forbade 
them to risk the fortunes of Athens in distant enterprises, while 
they had unsubdu 3d and powerful enemies at their own doors. 
He taught Athens this maxim; but he also taught her to know and 
to use her own strength, and when Pericles had departed, the bold 
spirit which he had fostered overleaped the salutary limits which 
he had prescribed. When her bitterest enemies, the Corinthians, 
succeeded, in 431 b. c, in inducing Sparta to attack her, and a 
confederacy was formed of five-sixths of the continental Greeks, 
all animated by anxipus jealousy and bitter hatred of Athens; 
when armies far superior in numbers and equipment to those 
which had marched against the Persians were poured into the 
Athenian territory, and laid it waste to the ctty walls, the general 
opinion was that Athens would be reduced, in two or three j^ears 
at the farthest, to submit to the requisitions of her invaders. But 
her strong fortifications, by which she was girt and linked to her 
principal haven, gave her, in those ages, almost all the advantages 
of an insular position. Pericles.had made her trust to her empire 
of the seas. Every Athenian in those days was a practiced sea- 
man. A state, indeed, whose members, of an age fit for service, 



DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. 45 

at no time exceeded thirty thousand, and whose territorial extent 
did not equal half Sussex, could only have acquired such a naval 
dominion as Athens once held, by devoting, and zealously train- 
ing, all its sons to service in its fleets. In order to man the numer- 
ous galleys which she sent out, she necessarily employed large 
numbers of hired mariners and slaves at the oar; but the staple ov 
her crews was Athenian, and all posts of command were held by 
native citizens. It was by remindiii-g them of ^his, of their long 
practice in seamanship, and the certain superiority which their' 
discipline gave them over the enemy's marine, that their great 
minister mainly encouraged them to resist the combined power of 
Lacedgemon and her allies. He taught them that Athens might 
thus reap the fruit of her ztalous devotion to maritime affairs 
ever sin<'.e tiie invasion of the Medes; " she had not, indeed, per- 
fecterl herself; but the reward of her superior training was the 
rule of the sea — a mighty dominion, for it gave her the rule of 
much fair land beyond its waves, safe from the idle ravages with 
which the Lacedaemonians might harass Attica, but never could 
subdue Athens.''* 

Athens accepted the war with which her enemies threatened her 
rather than descend from her pride of place; and though' the aw- 
ful visitation of the Plague came upon her, and swept away more 
of her citizens than the Dorian spear laid low, she held her own 
gallantly against her enemies. If the Peloponnesian armies in ir- 
resistible strength wasted every spring, her cornlands, her vine- 
yards, and her olive groves with fire and sword, she retaliated on 
their coasts with her fleets; which, if resisted, were only resisted 
to display the pre-eminent skill and bravery of her seamen. Some 
of her subject allies revolted, but the revolts were in general stern- 
ly and promptly quelled. The genius of one enemy had indeed 
inflicted blows on her power in Thrace which she w as unable to 
remedy ; but he fell in battle in the tenth year of the war, and 
with the loss of Brasidas the Lacedaemonians seemed to have lost 
all energy and judgment. Both sides at length grew weary of the 
war, and in 421 a truce for fifty years was concluded, which, though 
ill kept, and though many of the confederates of Sparta refused 
to recognize it, and hostilities still continued in many parts of 
Greece, protected the Athenian territory from the ravages of ene- 
mies, and enabled Athens to accumulate large sums out of the pro- 
ceeds of her annual revenues. So also, as a few years passed by, 
the havoc which the pestilence and the sword had made in her 
population was repaired; and in 415 b. c. Athens was full of bold 
and restless spirits, who longed for some field of distant enterprise 
wherein they might signalize themselves and aggrandize the state, 
and who looked on the alarm of Spartan hostility as a mere old 
woman's tale. When Sparta had wasted their territory she had 

* Thuc^ lib. i., sec. 144. 



46 DECISIVE BATTLES, 

done her Tporst: and the fact of its always being in her power to 
do so seemed a strong reason for seeking to increase the trans-ma- 
rine dominion of Athens. 

The "SV est was now the quarter toward which the thoughts of 
every aspiring Athenian were directed. From the very beginning 
of the war Athens had kept up an interest in Sicily, and her squad- 
ron had, from time to time, appeared on its coasts and taken part 
in the dissensions in which the Sicilian Greeks were universally 
engaged one against each other. There were plausible grounds for 
a direct quarrel, and an open attack by the Athenians upon Syracuse. 

"NVith the capture of Syraciisse, all Sicily, it was hoped, would 
be secured. Carthage and Italy were next to be attacked. "With 
large levies of Iberian mercenaries she then meant to overvshelm 
her Peloponnesian enemies. The Persian monarchy lay in hope- 
less imbecility, inviting Greek invasion ; nor did the known world 
contain the poAver that seemed capable of checking the growing 
might of Athens, if Syracuse once could be hers. 

The national historian of Eome has left us an episode of his 
great work, a disquisition on the probable efiects that would have 
followed if Alexander the Great had invaded Italy. Posterity has 
generally regarded that disquisition as proving Livj''s patriotism 
more strongly than his impartiality or acuteness. Yet, right or 
wrong, the speculations of the Eoman writer were directed to the 
considerations of a very remote possibility. To whatever age 
Alexander's life might have been prolonged, the East would have 
furnished full occupation for his martial ambition, as well as for 
those schemes of commercial grandeur and imperial amalgama- 
tion of nations in which the truly great qualities of his mind 
loved to display themselves. With his death the dismemberment 
of his empire among his generals was certain, even as the dismem- 
berment of Napoleon s empire among his marshals would cer- 
tainly have ensued if he had been cut off in the zenith of his 
power. Eome, also, was far weaker when the Athenians were in 
Sicily than she was a century afterwards in Alexander's time. 
There can be little doubt but that Kome would have been blotted 
out from the independent powers of the "SVest, had she been at;- 
tacked at the end of the fifth centiiry b.c, by an Athenian army, 
largely aided by Spanish mercenaries, and tliished with triumphs 
over Sicily and Africa, instead of the collision between her and 
Greece having been deferred until the latter had sunk into 
decrepitude, and the Eoman Mais had grown into full vigor. 

The armament which the Athenians equipped against Syracuse 
was in every way worthy of the state which formed such projects 
of universal empire, and it has been truly termed "the noblest 
that ever yet had been set forth by a free and civilized common- 
wealth.''* The fleet consisted of one hundred and thirty-four 



* Arnold's ' " History of Rcane.'* 



DEFEAT OF THE ATEENZAWSL 47 

war-galleys, with a multitude of store-ships. A powerful force of 

the best heavy-armed infantry that Athens and her allies could 
furnish was sent on board it, together with a smaller number oi 
slingers and bowmen. The quality of the forces was even more 
remarkable than the number. The zeal of individuals vied with 
that of the republic in giving every galley the best possible crew, 
and every troop the most perfect accouterments . And with pri- 
vate as well as public wealth eagerly lavished on all that could 
give splendor as well as efficiency to the expedition, the fated 
fleet began its voyage for the Sicilian shores in the summer of 

415. 

The Syracusans themselves, at the time of the Peloponnesian 
war, were a bold and turbulent democracy, tyrannizing over the 
weaker Greek cities in Sicily, and trying to gam in that island the 
same arbitrary supremacy which ,xth as maintained aiong the 
eastern coast of the Mediterranean. In numbers and in spirit 
they were fully equal to the Athenians, but far inferior to them, 
in military and naval discipline. When the probability of an 
Athenian invasion was first publicly discussed at Syracuse, and 
efforts were made by some of the wiser citizens to improve the 
state of the national defenses, and prepare for the impending 
danger, the rumors of coming war and the proposal for preparation 
were received by the mass of the Syracusans with scornful in- 
credulity. The speech of one of their popular orators is pre- 
served to us in Thucydides,* and many of its topics might, by a 
slight alteration of names and details, serve admirably for the 
party among ourselves at present, which opposes the augmenta- 
tion of our forces, and derides the idea of our being in any peril 
from the sudden attack of a French expedition. The Syracusan 
orator told his countrymen to dismiss with scorn the visionary 
terrors which a set of designing men among themselves strove 
to excite, in order to get power and influence thrown into their 
own hands. He told them that Athens knew her own interest 
too well to think of wantonly provoking their hostility : "Even if 
their enemies were to come," said he, '' so distant from their resources, 
and opposed to such a power as ours, their destruction would he^ easy 
and inevitable. Their ships will have enough to do to get to our island 
at all, and to carry such stores of all sorts as will be needed. They 
cannot therefore carry, besides, an army large enough to cope with^ such 
a population as ours. They will have no fortified place from which to 
commence their operations, but must rest them on no better base than a 
set of wretched tents, and such means as the necessities of the momeni 
will allow them. But, in truth, 1 do not believe that they would even be 
able to effect a disembarkation. Let us, therefore, set at naught these 
reports as altogether of home manufacture; and be sure if any enemy 

* Lib. vl., sec. 36, ei sea., Arnold's edition, jl nave almost literally trail' 
scribed some of tlie -narglnal epitomes oj: the original speecli. 



48 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

does come, the state wiU know hoio to defend itself in a manner worthy 
of the national honor." 

Such assertions pleased the Syracusan assembly, and their 
counterparts find favor now among some portion of the English 
public. But the invaders of Syracuse came; made good their 
landing in Sicily; and, if they had promptly attacked the city 
itself, instead of wasting nearly a year in desultory operations in 
other parts of Sicily, the Syracusans must have paid the penalty 
of their self-sufiBcient carelessness in submission to the Athenian 
yoke. But, of the three generals who led the Athenian expedition, 
two only were men of ability, and one was most weak and incom- 
petent. 

Fortunately for Syracuse, Alcibiades, the most skilful of the 
three, was soon deposed from his command by a factious and 
fanatic vote of his fellow-cojijitrymen, and the other competent 
one, Lamachus, fell early ip. a^skirmish; while, more fortunately 
still for her, the feeble and vacillating Nicias remained unrecalled 
and unhurt, to assume the undivided leadership of the Athenian 
army and fleet, and to mar, by alternate over-caution and over- 
carelessness, every chance of success which the early part of the 
operations offered. Still, even under him, the Athenians nearly 
won the town. They defeated the raw levies of the Syracusans, 
cooped them within the walls, and, as before mentioned, almost 
effected a continuous fortification from bay to bay over Epipol^e, 
the completion of which would certainly have been followed by a 
capitulation. 

Alcibiades, the most complete example ef genius without prin. 
ciple that history produces, the Bolingbroke of antiquity, but with 
high military talents superadded to diplomatic and oratorical 
powers, on being summoned home from his command in Sicily to 
take his trial before the Athenian tribunal, had escaped to Sparta, 
and had exerted himself there with all the selfish rancor of a rene- 
gade to renew the war with Athens, and to send instant assistance 
to Syracuse. 

When we read his words in the pages of Thucydides (who was 
himself an exile from Athens at this period, and may probably 
have been at Sparta, and heard Alcibiades speak), we are at a loss 
whether most to admire or abhor his subtle and traitorous counsels. 
After an artful exordium, in which he tried to disarm the suspic- 
ions which he felt must be entertained of him and to point out to 
the S]iartans how completely his interests and theirs were identi- 
fied, through hatred of the Athenian democracy, he thus jjro- 
ceeded: 

" Hear me, at any rate, on the matters which require your grave 
attention, and which T, from the personal knowledge that I have 
of them, can and ought to bring before you. We Athenians sailed 
to Sicily with the design of subduingj. first the Greek cities there, 
and next those in Italy. Then we int^i^ded to make an attempt 



DEFEAT OF TEE ATHENIANS. 49 

on the dominions of Cartilage, and on Carthage itself.* If all 
these projects succeeded (nor did we limit ourselves to them in 
these quarters), we intended to increase our fleet with the inex- 
haustible supplies of ship timber which Italy affords, to put in re- 
quisition the whole military force of the conquered Greek states, 
and also to hire large armies of the barbarians, of the Iberiansf 
and others in these regions, who are allowed to make the best pos- 
sible soldiers. Then, when we had done all this, we intended to 
assail Peloponnesus with our collected force. Our fleets would 
blockade you by sea, and desolate your coasts, our armies would 
be landed at different points and assail your cities. Some of 
these we expected to storm, | and others we meant to take by sur- 
rounding them with fortified lines. We thought that it would 
thus be an easy matter thoroughly to war you down; and then we 
should become the masters of theJ^V^tsGreek race. As for ex- 
pense, we reckoned that each cOnqueJ-ed state would give us 
supplies of money and provisions sufficient to pay for its own 
conquest, and furnish the means for the conquest of its neighbors. 
" Such are the designs of the present Athenian expedition to 
Sicily, and you have heard them from the lips of the man who, of 
all men living, is most accurately acquainted with them. The 
other Athenian generals, who remain with the expedition, will 
endeavor to carry out these plans. And be sure that without your 
speedy interference they will all be accomplished. The Sicilian 
Greeks are deficient in military training; but still, if they couJd 
at once be brought to combine in an organized resistance to Athens, 
they might even now be saved. But as for the Syracusans resist- 
ing Athens by themselves, they have already, with the whole 
strength of their population, fought a battle and been beaten; they 
cannot face the Athenians at sea; and it is quite impossible for 
them to hold out against the force of their invaders. And if this 
city falls into the hands of the Athenians, all Sicily is theirs, and 
presently Italy also; and the danger, which I warned you of from 
that quarter, will soon fall upon yourselves. You must, therefore, 
in Sicily, fight for the safety of Peloponnesus. Send some galleys 
thither instantly. Put men on board who can work their own 
way over, and who, as soon as they land, can do duty as 

* Arnold, In his notes on this passage, well reminds the reader that 
Agathocles, with a Greek force far inferior to that of the Athenians at this 
period, did, some years afterward, very nearly conquer Carthage. 

t It will be remembered that Spanish Infantry were the staple of the 
Carthaginian armies. Doubtless Alcibiades and other leading Athenians 
had made themselves acquainted with the Carthaginian system of carrying 
on war, and meant to adopt it. With the marvelous powers which Alcibi- 
ades possessed of ingratiating himself with the men of every class and every 
nation, and his high military genius, he would have been as fornudable a 
chief of an army of condottieri as Hainlbal afterward was. 

t Alcibiades here alluded to riarta itself, which was unfortified. His 
Spartan hearers must have glanced round them at these words with mixed 
alarm aad indignation. 



60 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

regular troops. But, above all, let one of yourselves, let a man of 
Sparta go over to take the chief coiuuiand, to bring into order and 
effective discipline tiie forces that are iu Syracuse, and urge those 
who at present hang back to come forward "and aid tue Syraciisans. 
The presence of a Spartan general fit this crisis will do more to 
save the city than a whole army."* The renegade then proceeded 
to urge on them the necessity of encouraging their friends in 
Sicily, by showing that they themselves were in earnest in hostility 
to Athens, He exhorted them not only to march their armies into 
Attica again, but to take up a permanent fortitied position in the 
country; uut he gave them in detail information of all that the 
Athenians most dreaded, and how his country might receive the 
most distressing and enduring injury at their hands. 

The Spartans resolved to act on his advice, and appointed 
Gylippus to the Sicilian command. Gylippus was a man who, 
to the national bravery and military skill of a Spartan, iinited 
political sagacity that was worthy of his great fellow-countryman 
Brasidas; but his merits were debased by mean and sordid vices; 
and his is one of the cases in which history has been austerely 
just, and where little or no lame has been accorded to the success- 
ful but venal soldier. But for the purpose for which he was 
required in Sicily, an abler man could not have been found in 
Laceda?mon. His country'' gave him neither men nor money, but 
she ga"s"e him her authority ; and the influence of her name and 
of his own talents was speedily seen in the zeal with which the 
Corinthians and other Peloponnesian Greeks began to equip a 
sqaudron to act under him for the rescue of Sicily. As soon as 
four galleys were ready, he hurried over with them to the southern 
coast of Italy, and there, though he received such evil tidings of 
the state of Syracuse that he abandoned all hope of saving that 
city, he determined to remain on the coast, and do what he could 
in preserving the Italian cities from tht^ Athenians. 

So nearly, indeed, had Nicias completed his beleaguering lines, 
and so utterly desperate had the state of Syracuse seemingly be- 
come, that an assembly of the Syracusans was actually convened, 
and they were discussing the terms on which they should offer to 
capitulate, when a galley was seen dashing into the great harbor, 
and making her way toward the town with all the speed which her 
rowers co-uld supply. From her shunning the part of the harbor 
where the Athenian fleet lay, and making straight for the Syra- 
cusan side, it was clear that she was a friend ; the enemy's 
cruisers, careless through confidence of success, made no attempt 
to ciit her oft' ; she touched the beach, and a Corinthian captain, 
springing on shore from her, was eagerly conducted to the assem- 
bly of the Syracusan people just in time to prevent the fatal vote 
Ijeing put for a surrender. 

f Tliuc, Uh. vl., sec. 90, 91. 



DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. til 

Providentially for Syracuse, Gongylus, the commander of the 
galley, had been prevented by an Athenian squadron from follow- 
ing (rylippus to South Italy, and he had been obliged to push 
direct for Syracuse from Greece. 

The sight of actual succor, and the promise of more, revived the 
drooping spirits of the Syracusans. They felt that they were not 
left desolate to perish, and the tidings that a Spartan was coming 
to command them confirmed their resolution to continue their 
resistance. Gylippus was already near the city. He had learned 
at Locri that the lirst report which had reached him of the state 
of Syracuse was exaggerated, and that there was unfinished space 
in the besiegers' lines through which it was barely possible to in- 
troduce re-enforcements into the town. Crossing the Straits of 
Messina, which the culpable negligence of Nicias had left un- 
guarded, Gylippus landed on the northern coast of Sicily, and 
there began to collect from the Greek cities an army, of which the 
regular troops that he brought from Peloponnesus formed the 
nucleus. Such was the influence of the name of Sparta,* and 
such were his own abilities and activity, that he succeeded in 
raising a force of about two thousand fully-armed infantry, with 
a larger number of irregular troops. Nicias, as if infatuated, 
made no attempt to counteract his oijerations, nor, when Gylippus 
marched his little army toward Syracuse, did the Athenian com- 
mander endeavor to check him. The Syracusans marched out to 
meet him ; and while the Athenians were solely intent on com- 
pleting their fortifications on the southern side toward the harbor, 
Gylippus turned their position by occupying the high ground in 
the extreme rear of Epipolse. He then marched through the un- 
fortified interval of Nicias's lines into the besieged town, and join- 
ing his troops with the Syracusan forces, after some engagements 
with varying success, gained the mastery over Nicias, drove the 
Athenians from Epipolae, and hemmed them into a disadvantage- 
ous position in the low grounds near tha great harbor. 

The attention of all Greece was now fixed on Syracuse ; and 
every enemy of Athens felt the importance of the opportunity now 
offered of checking her ambition, and, j)erhaps, of striking a 
deadly blow at her power. Large re-enforcements from Corinth, 
Thebes, and other cities now reached the Syracusans, while the 
baffled and dispirited Athenian general earnestly besought his 
countrymen to recall him, and represented the further prosecu- 
tion of the siege as hopeless. 

But Athens had made it a maxim never to let difficulty or dis- 
aster drive her back from any enterprise once undertaken, so long 
as she possessed the means of making any effort, however desper- 



* The effect of the presence of a Spartan officer on tlis troops of tlie other 
Greeks seems to have been hlce the effect of the presence of an EngUsh 
(Hacer upon native Indian troops. 



52 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

ate, icv its accomplishment. With indomitable pertinacity, she 
now decreed, instead of recalling her first armament from before 
Syracuse, to send out a second, though her enemies near home 
had now renewed open warfare against her, and by occupying a 
permanent fortification in her territory had severely distressed her 
population, and were pressing her with almost all the hardships 
of an actual siege. She still was mistress of the sea, and she sent 
forth another fleet of seventy galleys, and another army, which 
seemed to drain almost the last reserves of her military popula- 
tion, to try if Syracuse could not yet be won, and the honor of the 
Athenian arms be preserved from the stigma of a retreat. Kers 
was, indeed, a spirit that might be broken, but never would bend. 
At the head of this second expedition she wisely placed her best 
general, Demosthenes, one of the most distinguished officers that 
the long Peloponnesian war had produced, and who, if he had 
originally held the Sicilian command, would soon have brought 
Syracuse to submission. 

The fame of Demosthenes the general had been dimmed by the 
superior lustre of his great countryman, Demosthenes the orator. 
When the name of Demosthenes is mentioned, it is the latter alone 
that is thought of. The soldier has found no biographer. Yet out 
of the long list of great men whom the Athenian republic pro- 
duced, there are few that deserve to stand higher than this brave, 
though finally unsuccessful leader of her fleets and armies in the 
first half of the Peloponnesian war. In his first campaign in Mto- 
lia he had shown some of the rashness of youth, and had received 
a lesson of caution by which he profited throughout the rest of his 
career, but without losing any of his natural energy in enterprise 
or in execution. He had performed the distinguished service of 
rescuing Naupactus from a powerful hostile armament in the sev- 
enth year of the war ; he had then, at the request of the Acarnanian 
republics, taken on himself the office of commander-in-chief of all 
their forces, and at their head he had gained some important 
advantages over the enemies of Athens in Western Greece. His 
most celebrated exploits had been the occupation of Pj^los on the 
Messenian coast, the successful defense of that place against the 
fleet and armies of Lacedtemon, and the subsequent caj^ture of the 
Spartan forces on the isle of Sphacteria, which was the severest 
blow dealt to Sparta throughout the war, and which had mainly 
caused her to humble herself to make the truce with Athens. De- 
mosthenes was as honorably unknown in the war of party politics 
at Athens as he was eminent in the war against the foreign enemy. 
We read of no intrigues of his on either the aristocratic or demo- 
cratic side. He was neither in the interest of Nicias nor of Cleon. 
His private charaoter was free from any of the stains which pollui* 
ed that of Alcibiades. On all these points the silence of the comic 
dramatist is decisive evidence in his favor. He had also the moral 
courage, not always combined ^yith physical, of seeking to do his 



d:e^eat of the atkemaj^s. s^ 

duty to fiis country, irrespective of any odium that he. aimself 
might incur, and unhampered by any petty jealousy of those who 
were associated with him in command. There are few men named 
in ancient history of whom posterity would gladly know more, or 
whom we sympathize with more deeply in the calamities that befell 
them, than Demosthenes, the son of Alcisthenes, who, in the spring 
of the year 413 b. c, left Piraeus at the head of the second Athenian 
expedition against Sicily. 

His arrival was critically timed; for Gylippus had encouraged 
the Syracusans to attack the Athenians under Nicias by sea as well 
^s by land, and by one able stratagem of Ariston, one of the 
admirals of the Corinthian auxiliary squadron, the Syracusans 
ind their confederates had inflicted on the fleet of Nicias the first 
lefeat that the Athenian navy had ever sustained from a numerically 
nferior enemy. Gylippus was preparing to follow up his advan- 
tage by fresh attacks on the Athenians on both elements, when 
ikhe arrival of Demosthenes completely changed the aspect of 
fiffairs, and restored the superiority to the invaders. With seventy- 
"^hree war-galleys in the highest state of efficiency, and brilliantly 
equipped, with a force of five thousand picked men of the regular 
infantry of Athens and her allies, and a still larger number of 
bow-mea, javelin-men, and slingers on board. Demosthenes 
rowed round the great harbor with loud cheers and martial music, 
as if in defiance of the Syracusans and their confederates. His 
arrival had indeed changed their newly-born hopes into the deep- 
est consternation. The resources of Athens seemed inexhaustible, 
and resistance to her hopeless. They had been told that she was 
reduced to the last extremities, and that her territory was occu- 
pied by an enemy; and yet heye they saw her sending forth, as if 
in prodigality of power, a second armament to make foreign 
conquests, not inferior to that with which Nicias had first landed 
on the Sicilian shores. 

"With the intuitive decision of a great commander, Demosthenes 
at once saw that the possession of Epipolae was the key to the pos- 
session of Syracuse, and he resolved to make a prompt and vigor- 
ous attempt to recover that position, while his force was unim- 
paired, and the consternation which its arrival had produced 
among the besieged remained unabated. The Syracusans and 
their allies had run out an outwork along Epiipolae from the city 
walls, intersecting the fortified lines of circumvallation which 
Kicias had commenced, but from which he had been driven by 
Gylippus. Could Demosthenes succeed in storming this outwork, 
and in re-establishing the Athenian troops on the high ground, 
he might fairly hope to be able to resume the circumvallation of 
the city, and become the conquerer of Syracuse;. for when once 
the besiegers' lines were completed, the number of the troops with 
■which Gylippus had garrisoned the place would only tend to 
exhaust the stores of provisions and accelerate its downfalli 



54 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

An eAsily-repelled attack was first made on the ontv.-ork in the 
day-time, probably mure Tsith the Aiew of blinding the besieged 
to the nature of the main operations than with any expoctiition of 
snceeeding in an op n assault, witli every disailvantage ot the 
ground to contend.ni^aii.^st. l>ut, when the darkness had set in, 
J)emosthen?siormedhismenin columns, each soldier taking with 
him hve days' provisions, and the engineers and workmen of the 
camp following the troops with their tools, and all portuble im- 
plements of fortitieation, so as at once to secure any advantage of 
ground that the army might gain. Thus equipped j;nd prepared, 
he led his men along by the foot of the southern tiank of Epipoh^, 
in a direction toward the interior of the island, till he came im- 
mediately below the narrow ridge that forms the extremity of the 
high ground looking westward. He then wheeled his vanguard 
to the right, sent them rapidly up the paths that wind along the 
fl^ce of the clift", and succeeded in completely surprising the !Syra- 
cusan outposts, and in placing his troops fairly on the extreme 
summit of the all-important Epipolas. Thence the Athenisins 
marched eagerly down the slope toward the town, routing some 
Syracusan detachments that were quartered in their way, and 
vigorously assailing the unprotected side of the outwork. All at 
lirst favored them. The outwork was abandoned by its garrison, 
and the Athenian engineers began to dismantle it. In vain Gy lip- 
pus brought up fresh troops to check the assault; the Athenians 
broke and drove them back, and continued to press hotly forward, 
in the full contidence of victory. But, amid the general consterna- 
tion of the Syracusans and their confederates, one body of infantry 
stood lirm. This was a brigade of their Boeotian allies, which 
was posted low down the slope of Epipoh^, outside the city walls. 
Oooly and steadily the Boeotian infantry formed their line, and, 
undismayed by the current of Hight around them, advanced 
a^:;aiiist the advancing Athenians. This was the crisis of the bat^ 
tie. 

But the Athenian van was disorganieed by its own previous 
successes; and, yielding to the unexpected charge thus made on 
it by troops in perfect order, and of the most obstinate courage, it 
was driven back in confusi.on upon the other divisions of the army, 
that still continued to press forward. "When once the tide was 
thus turned, the Syi-acusans passed rapidly from the extreme of 
panic to the extreme of vengeful daring, and with all their forces 
they now fiercely assailed the embarrassed and receding Athen- 
ians. In viun did the otficers of the latter strive to re-form their 
line. 

Amid the din and the shouting of the fight, and the confusion 
inseparable upon a night engagement, es'pecially one where 
many thousand combatants were pent and whirled together in a 
narrow and uneven area, the necessary maneuvers were impraeti(y 
able; and though many companies still fought on desperately, 



Defeat of thf Athenians. 55 

wherever the moonlight showed them the semblance of a foe,* 
they fought without concert or subordination ; and not unfre- 
quently, amid the deadly chaos, Athenian troops assailed each 
other. Keeping their ranks close, the Syracusaus and their allies 
pressed on against the disorganized masses of the besiegers, and 
at length drove them, with heavy slaughter, over the cliffs, which 
an hour or two before they had scaled full of hope, and apparently 
certain of success. 

This defeat was decisive of the event of the siege. The Athe- 
nians afterward struggled only to protect themselves from the ven- 
geance which the Syracusians sought to wreak in the complete 
destruction of their invaders. Never, however, was vengeance 
more complete and terrible. A series of sea-fights followed, in 
which the Athenian galleys were utterly destroyed or captured. 
The marines and soldiers who escaped death in disastrous en- 
gagements, and a vain attempt to force a retreat into the interior 
of the island, became prisoners of wur ; Nicias and Demosthenes 
were put to death in cold blood, and their men either perished 
miserably in the syracusan dungeons, or were sold into slavery 
to the very persons whom, in their pride of power, they had 
crossed the seas to enslave. 

All danger from Athens to the independent nations of the West 
•was now forever at an end. She, indeed, centinued to struggle 
against her combined enemies and revolted allies with unpar- 
alleled gallantry, and many more years of varying warfare passed 
away before she surrendered to their arms. But no success in 
subsequent conquests could ever have restored her to the pre-em- 
inence in enterprise, resources, and maratime skill which she had 
acquired before her fatal reverses in Sicily. Nor among the rival 
Greek republics, whom her own rashness aided to crush her, was 
there any capable of re-organizing her empire, or resuming her 
schemes of conquest. The dominion of Western Europe was left 
for Kome and Carthage to dispute two centuries later, in conflicts 
still more terrible, and with even higher displays of military dar- 
ing and genius than Athens had witnessed either in her rise, her 
meridian, or her fall. 



* *Hr /lev ydp 6EXr]y7]^Xaintpdi hc^poav ds ovrco's dXXyXov?, 
cSi kv dsXr/v^ sixo'^ ttJv jU£^ otf^iv rov doonaro's Ttpoopdv rrjv 
^€ yy^div rov oixeiov aTtidreiKjOai. — Thuc, lib. vll., 44. Compare 
Vacitus's description of the lAghX enMagement in the civil war between 
Vespasian and Vitellius. " Keutro incliriaverat fortuna, donec adulta nocte 
Ana osUnderet acUa/atleretqva.^'—Jii^., llh. ill., sec. 'I'i, 



^ JOEClSiVE £ATTL£6. 



Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Athenians a* 

SXKACTJSE AND THE BaTTLE OF ArBKT.A. 

412 B. C. Many of the subject allies of Athens revolt from hef 
on her disasters before Syracuse being known; the seat of war ia 
transferred to the Hellespont and eastern side of the ^gaean. 
I 410 . The Carthaginians attempt to make conquests in Sicily. 
* 407. Cyrus the Younger is sent by the King of Persia to take 
the government of all the maritime parts of Asia Minor, and with 
orders to help the Lacedaemonian fleet against the Athenian. 

406. Agrigentum taken by the Cai-thaginians. 

405. The last Athenian fleet destroyed by Lysander at ^gospo* 
tami, Athens closely besieged. Eise of the power of Dionysiua 
at Syracuse. 

40*4. Athens surrenders. End of the Peloponnesian war. Thd 
ascendency of Sparta complete throughout Greece. 

403. Thrasybulus, aided by the Thebans and with the conni* 
vance of one of the Spartan kings, liberates Athens from the ThirtJ 
Tyrants, and restores the democracy. 

401, Cyrus the Younger commences his expedition into Uppel 
Asia to dethrone his brother Artaxerxes Mnemon. He takes with 
him an auxiliary force of ten thousand Greeks. He is killed in 
battle at Cunaxa, and the ten thousand, led by Xenophon, eflfecl 
their retreat in spite of the Persian armies and the natural obstacles 
of their march. 

399. In this and the five following years, the Lacedasmonians, 
Tinder Agesilaus and other commanders, carry on war against tha 
Persian satraps in Asia Minor. 

^396. Syracuse besieged by the Carthaginians, and successfully 
defended by Dionysius. 

394. Eome makes her first great stride in the career of conquest 
by the capture of Veii. 

393. The Athenian admiral, Conon, in conjunction with the 

Persian satrap Pharnabazus, defeats the Lacedaemonian fleet off 

( Cnidus, and restores the fortifications of Athens. Several of the 

. former allies of Sparta in Greece carry on hostilities against her. 

388. The nations of Northern Europe now first appear in 
authentic history. The Gauls oven-un great part of Italy and burn 
Eome. Eome recovers from the blow, but her old enemies the 
^quians and Yolscians are left completely crushed by the Gallic 
invaders. 

387. The peace of Antalcidas is concluded among the Greeks by 
the mediation, and under the sanction, of the Persian king. 

378 to 361. Fresh wars in Greece. Epaminondas raises Thebes 
to be the leading state of Greece, and the supremacy of Sparta is 
destroyed at the battle of Leiictra. Epaminondas is killed in 
gaining the victory of Mantinea, and the power of Thebes falls 



£A TTIE Ot" AltBjBLA. 57 

with. him. Th© Athenians attempt a balancing system between 
Sparta and Thebes. 

359. Philip becomes king of Macedon. 

357. The teocial War breaks out in Greece, and lasts three years. 
Its result checks the attempt of Athens to regain her old maritime 
empire. 

356. Alexander the Great is born. 

343. Eome begins her wars with the Samnites: they extend over 
a period of fifty years. The end of this obstinate contest is to se- 
cure for her the dominion of Italy. 

340. Fresh attempts of the Carthaginians upon Syracuse. Tim- 
oleon defeats them with great slaughter. 

338. Philip defeats the confederate armies of Athens and Thebes 
at Chaeronea, and the Macedonian supremacy over Greece is firm- 
ly established. 

336. Philip is assassinated, and Alexander the Great becomes 
king of Macedon. He gains several victories over the northern 
barbarians who had attacked Macedonia, and destroys Thebes, 
which, in conjunction with Athens, had taken up arms against 
the Macedonians. 

334 Alexander passes the Hellespont. 



CHAPTEB m. 

THS BATTLE OY ARBETiA, B.C. 331. 

Alexander deserves the glory which he has enjoyed for so many centu. 
rles and among all nations : but what if he had been beaten at Arbela, 
having the Euphrates, the Tigris, and tbe deserts In his rear, without any 
strong places of refuge, mne hundred leagues from Macedonia I— Napo- 
leon. 

Asia beheld with astonishment and awe the uninterrupted progress of a 
hero, the sweep of whose conquests was as wide and rapid as that of her 
own barbaric kings, or of the Scythian or Chaldean hordes; but, far un- 
Uke the transient whirlwinds of Asiatic warfare, the advance of the Mace- 
donian leader was no less deUberate than rapid ; at every step the Greek 
power took root, and the language and the civilization of Greece were 
planted from the shores of the yEgaean to the banks oi the Indus, from the 
Caspian and the great Hyrcanian plain to the cataracts of the Nile ; to 
exist actually for nearly a thousand years, and in their effects to endure 
forever.— Arnold. 

A LONG and not tininstructive list might be made out of illus- 
trious men whose characters have been vindicated during recent 
times from aspersions which for centuries had been thrown on 
them. The spirit of modern inquiry, and the tendency of modern 
scholarship, both of which are often said to be solely negative 
laid destructive, iiave, in truth, restored to splendor, and al« 



68 DECISIVE BATTLKH. 

most created anew, far more than they have assailed with censiire, 
or dismissed from consideration as unreal. The truth of many a 
brilliant narrative of brilliant exploits has of late years been 
triumphantly demonstrated, and the shallowness of the skeptical 
scofls with which little minds have carped at the great minds of 
antiquity has been in many instances decisively exposed. The 
laws, the politics and the lines of action adopted or recommended 
by eminent men and powerful nations have been examined with 
keener investigation, and considered with more comprehensive 
judgment than formerly were brought to bear on these subjects. 
The result has been at least as often favorable as unfavorable 
to the persons and the states so scrutinized, and many an 
oft-repeated slanuer against both measures and men has thus 
been silenced, we may hope forever. 

The veracity of Herodotus, the pure patriotism of Pericles, of 
Demosthenes, and of the Gracchi, the wisdom of Clisthenes and 
of Licinius as constitutional reformers, may be mentioned as facts 
which recent writers have cleared from unjust suspicion and cen- 
sure. And it might be easily shown that the defensive tendency, 
which distinguishes the present and recent great writers of Ger- 
many, France and England, has been equally manifested in the 
spirit in which they have treated the heroes of thought and heroes 
of action who lived during M'hat we termed the Middle Ages, and 
whom it was so long the fashion to sneer at or neglect. 

The name of the victor of Arbela has led to these reflections ; 
for, although the rapidity and extent of Alexander's conquests 
have through all ages challenged admiration and amazement, 
the grandeur of genius which he displayed in his schemes of com- 
merce, civilization, and of comprehensive union and unity among 
nations, has, until lately, been comparatively unhonored. This 
long-continued depreciation was of early date. The ancient 
rhetoricians — a class of babblers, a school for lies and scandal, 
as Niebuhr justly termed them — chose, among the stock themes 
for their commonplaces, the character and exploits of Alexander. 
They had their followers in ever}'' age ; and, until a very recent 
period, all who wished to "point a moral or adorn a tale," about 
unreasoning ambition, extravagant pride, and the formidable 
phrensies of free will when leagued with free power, have 
never failed to blazon forth the so-called madman of Macedonia 
as one of the most glaring examples. Without doubt, many of 
these writers adopted with implicit credence traditional ideas, 
and supposed, with uninquiring philanthropy, that in blackening 
Alexander they were doing humanity good service. But also, 
without doubt, many of his assailants, like those of other great 
men, have been mainly instigated by " that strongest of all an- 
tipathies, the antipathy of a second-rate mind to a first-rate 
one,"* and by the envy which talent too often bears to genius. 

*JLKj;5tael, *"" ■ 



BATTLE. OB aBBE'La, 6^ 

Arrfan, vfho •wrote his history of Alexander when Hadrian was 
empeioy of the Komau world, lind when the spirit of declamation 
and dog^Matism wasj at its full hcjigbt, but who was himself, unlike 
the drean^ing pedants of the Rcliools, a statesman and a soldier of 
practical and proved ability, well rebuked the malevolent asper- 
sions which )ie heard continually thrown upon the memory of the 
conquerer of the East. He truly says : " Let the man who speaks 
evil of Alexander not merely brin^ forward those passages of 
Alexander's life which were really svil, but let him collect and 
i'eview all the actions of Alexander, and then let him thoroughly 
consiJer first who and what mannei of man he himself is, and 
what has been his own career ; and then let him consider who and 
what manner of man Alexander was, and to what an eminence of 
ham .n grandeur Ae arrived. Let him consider that Alexander 
was a King, and the undisputed lord of two continents, and that 
his name is renowned throughout the whole earth. Let the evil- 
speaker against Alexander bear all this in mind, and then let him 
reflect on his own insignificance, the pettiness of his own circum- 
stances and affairs, and the blunders that b3 makes about these, 
paltry and trifling as they are. Let him then ask himself 
whether he is a fit person to censure and revnle such a man as 
Alexander. I believe that there was in his time no nation of men, 
no city, nay, no single individual with whom Alexander' ci name 
had not become a familiar word. I therefore hold that sucn a 
man, who was like no oi'dinary mortal, was not born into the 
world without some special providence."* 

And one of the most distiiiguished soldiers and writers of our 
own nation. Sir Walter Kaleiwh, though he failed to estimate justly 
the full merits of Alexandtr, has expressed his sense of the 
grandeur of the part played iiv the world by "the great Emathian 
conquerer" in language that well deserves quotation. 

"So much hath the spirit of some one man excelled as it hath 
undertaken and affected the alteration of the greatest states and 
commonweals, the erection of monarchies, the conquest of king- 
doms and empires, guided handfuls of men against multitudes of 
equal bodily strength, contrived victories beyond all hope and 
discourse of reason, converted the fearful passions of his own 
followers into magnanimity, and the valor of his enemies into cow- 
ardice ; such spirits have been stirred up in sundry ages of the 
world, and in divers parts thereof, lo erect and cast down again, 
to establish and to destroy, and to bring all things, persons, anc* 
states to the same certain ends, which the infinite spirit of the 
Universal, piercing, moving, and governing all things, hath or- 
dained. Certainly, the things that this king did were marvelous, 
and would hardly have been undertaken by anyone else : and 
though his father had determined to have invaded the Lesser Asia, 

I I '■ I" ■ I ■ ■»————> 

• Arrian lib. yiL, aa fineia. 



eO DZCISIVi: BATTLES, 

it is like enough that he would have contented himself with some 
part thereof, iind not have discovered the river of Indus, as this 
man did."* 

A higher authorit^y^ than either Arrian or ErJeigh may now he 
referred to by those who wish to know the real merit of Alexander 
as a general, and how far the commonplace assertions are 
true that his siiccesses were the mere results of fortunate rash- 
ness and unreasoning pugnacity. Napoleon selected Alex- 
ander as one of the seven greatest generals whose noble deeds 
history has handed down to us, and from the study of whose 
comptxigns the principles of war are to be learned. The critique 
of the greatest conquerer of modern times on the military career 
of the great conquerer of the Old "World is no less graphic than true. 

"Alexander crossed the Dardanelles 334: b. c, with an army of 
about forty thousand men, of which one eighth was cavalry ; he 
forced the passage of the Granicus in opposition to an army under 
Memmon, the Greek, who commanded for Darius on the coast of 
Asia, and he spent the whole of the year 333 in establishing his 
power in Asia Minor. He was seconded by the Greek colonies, 
■who dwelt on the borders of the Black Sea and on the Mediterran- 
ean, and in Sardis, Ephesus , Tarsus, Miletus, il-c. The kings of 
Pei-sia left their provinces and towns to be governed according to 
their own particular laws. Their empire was a union of confeder- 
ate states, and did not form one nation; this facilitated its conquest. 
As Alexander only wished for the throne of the monarch, he easily 
aliected the change by respecting the customs, manners, and laws 
of the people, who experienced no change in their conditions. 

"In the year 332 he met with Dariiis at the head of sixty thou- 
sand men, who had taken up a position near Tarsus, on the banks 
of the Issus, in the province of Cilicia. He defeated him, en- 
tered Syria, took Damascus, which contained all the riches of the 
great king, and laid siege to Tyre. This superb metropolis of the 
commerce of the world detained him nine months. He took 
Gaza, after a siege of two months ; crossed the Desert in seven 
days ; entered Pelusium and Memphis, and founded Alexan- 
dria. In less than two years, after two battles and four or five 
sieges, the coasts of the Black Sea, from Phasis to Byzantium, 
those of the Mediterranean as far as Alexandria, all Asia Minor, 
Syris and Egypt, had submitted to his arms. 

"In 331 he repassed the Desert, encamped in Tyre, recrossed 
Syria, entered Damascus, passed the Euphrates and Tigris, and 
defeated Darius on the tield of Arbela, when he was at the head 
of a still stronger army than that which he commanded on the 
Issus, and Babylon opened her gates to him. In 330 he overran 
Susa and took that city, Persepolis, and Parsargarda, which con- 
tained the tomb of Cyrus. In 320 he directed his course north- 

^ThQ Historic ol the World,-' by Sir Walter Kaleigh, Knight, p. 648. 



BATTLE OF ABBELA. 61 

Trard, entered Ecbatana, and extended his conquests to tlie coasts 
of the Caspian, punished Bessus, the cowardly assassin of Darius, 
penetrated into Scythia, and subdued the Scythians. In 328 he 
forced the passage of the Oxus, received sixteen thousand recruits 
from Macedonia, and reduced the neighboring people to subject- 
tion. In 327 he crossed the Indus, vanquished Porus in a pitched 
battle, took him prisoner, and treated him as a king. He con- 
templated passing the Ganges, but his army refused. He sailed 
down the Indus, in the year 32G, with eight hundred vessels ; 
having arrived at the ocean, he sent Nearchus with a fleet to run 
along the coasts of the Indian Ocean and the Persian Gulf as far 
as the mouth of the Euphrates. In 325 he took sixty days in 
crossing from Gedrosia, entered Kermania, returned to Pasargada, 
Persepolis, and Susa, and married Statira, the daughter of Darius. 
In 324 he marched once more to the north, passed Ecbatana, and 
terminated his career at Babylon,* 

The enduring importance of Alexander's conquests is to bo 
estimated not by the duration of his own life and empire, or even 
by the duration of the kingdoms which his generals after his death 
formed out of the fragments of that mighty dominion. In every 
region of the world that he traversed, Alexander planted Greek 
settlements and founded cities, in the populations of which the 
Greek element at once asserted its predominance. Among his 
successors, the Selucidse and the Ptolemies imitated their great 
captain in blending schemes of civilization, of commercial inter- 
course, and of literary and scientific research with all their enter- 
prises of military aggrandizement and with all their systems of 
civil administration. Such was the ascendency of the Greek 
genius, so wonderfully comprehensive and assimilating was the 
cultivation which it introduced, that, within thirty years after 
Alexander crossed the Hellespont, the Greek language was spoken 
in every country from the shores of the ^gaen to the Indus, and 
also throughout Egypt— not, indeed, wholly to the extirpation of 
the native dialects, but it became the language of every court, of 
all literature, of every judicial and political function, and formed 
a medium of communication among the many myriads of man- 
kind inhabiting these large portions of the Old World, f Through- 
out Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt, the Hellenic character that 
was thus imparted remained in full vigor down to the time of 
the Mohammedan conquests. The infinite value of this to hu- 
manity in the highest and holiest point of view has often been 
pointed out, and the workings of the finger of Providence have 
been gratefully recognized by those who have observed how the 
early growth and progress of Christianity were aided by that 
diffusion of the Greek language and civilization throughout Asia 

* See Count Montholon's •' Memoirs of Napoleon." 
t See Arnold, Hist. Home, 111., p. 40€, 



62 I>EC1SIVE BATTLES. 

Minor, Syria, and Egypt, -which had been caused by the Macedcy 
nian conq\iest of the East. 

In Upper Asia, beyond the Euphrates, the direct and material 
influence of Greek ascendency was more short-lived. Yet, dur- 
ing the existence of the Hellenic kingdoms in these regions, 
especially of the Greek kingdom of Bactrin, the modern Bokhara, 
very important effects were produced on the intellectual tenden- 
cies and tastes of the inhabitants of those countries, and of the 
adjacent on s, by the animating contact of the Grecian spirit. 
Much of Hindoo science and philosophy, miich of the literature 
of the later Persian kingdom of the Arsacidte, either originated 
from, or was largely moditied by, Grecian influences. So, also, 
the learning and science of the Arabians were in a far less de- 
gree the result of original invention and genius, than the repro- 
duction, in an altered form, cf the Greek philosophy and the Greek 
lore, acquired by the Saracenic conquerers, together with their 
acquisition of the provinces which Alexander had subjugated, 
nearly a thousand years before the armed disciples of Mohammed 
commenced their career in the East. It is well known that 
Western Europe in the Middle Ages drew its philosophy, its arts, 
and its science principally from Arabian teachers. And thus we 
see how the intellectual influence of ancient Greece poured on the 
Eastern world by Alexander's victories, and then broiight back to 
bear on iledian-al Europe by the spread of the Saracenic powers, 
has exerted its action on the elements of modern civilization by 
this powerful though indirect channel, as well as by the more 
obvious eftects of the remnant s of classic civilization which sur- 
vived in Italy, Gaul, Britain, and Spain, after the irruption of the 
Germanic nations. * 

These considerations invest the Macedonian triumphs in the 
East with never-dying interest, such as the most showy and san- 
guinary successes of mere " low ambition and the pride of kings," 
however they may dazzle for a moment, can never retain with 
posterity, "\Vhether the old Pei-sian empire which Cyrus founded 
could have survived mxtch longer than it did, even if Darius had 
been victorious at Arbela, may safely be disputed. That ancient 
dominion, like the Turkish at the present time, labored under 
every cause of decay and dissolution. The satraps, like the 
modern pashaws, continually rebelled against the central power, 
and Egypt in particular was almos talways in a state of insurrec- 
tion against the nominal sovereign. There was no longer any 
eifective central control, or any internal principle of unity fused 
through the huge mass of the empire, and binding it together. 
Persia was evidently about to fall ; bat, had it not been for 
Alexander's invasion of Asia, she would most probably have fallen 
beneath some other Oriental power, as Media and Babylon had 

* See HmntKjWt's '* Cosmos.'* 



BATTLE OF AEBELA, %% 

^rmerly fallen before herself, and as, in after times, the Parthian 
supremacy gave way to the revived ascendency of Persia in the East, 
under the scepters of the Arsacida3. A revolution that merely 
substituted one Eastern power lor another would have been utteily 
barren and unprofitable to mankind. 

Alexander's victory at Arbela not only overthrew an Oriental' 
dynasty, but established European rulers in its stead . It broke 
the monotony of the Eastern world by the impression of Western 
energy and superior civilization, even as England's present miS' 
sion is to break up the mental and moral stagnation of India and 
Cathay by pouring upon and through them the impulsive current 
of Anglo-Saxon commerce and concjuest. 

Arbela, the city which has furnished its name to the decisive 
battle which gave Asia to Alexander, lies more than twenty 
miles from the actual scene of conflict. The little village, then 
named Guagemela, is close to the spot where the armies met, but 
has ceded the honor of naming the battle to its more euphonius 
neighbor. Gaugamela is situate in one of the wide plains that 
lie between the Tigris and the mountains of Kurdistan. A few 
undulating hillocks diversify the surface of this sandy track ; 
but the ground is generally level, and admirably qualified for the 
evolutions of cavalry and also calculated to give the larger of 
two armies the full advantage of numerical superiority. The 
Persian king (who, before he came to the throne, had proved his 
personal valor as a soldier and his skill as a general), had wisely 
selected this region for the third and decisive encounter between 
his forces and the invader. The previous defeats of his troops, 
however severe they had been, were not looked on as irreparable. 
The Granicus had been fought by his generals rashly and without 
mutual concert ; and, though Darius himself had commanded 
and been beaten at Issus, that defeat might be attributed to the 
disadvantageous nature of the ground, where, cooped up between 
the mountains, the river, and the sea, the numbers of the Persians 
confused and clogged alike the general's skill and the soldier's 
prowess, and their very strength had been made their weakness. 
Here, on the broad plains of Kurdistan, there was scope for Asia's 
largest host to array its lines, to wheel, to skirmish, to condense or 
ex^oand its squadrons, to maneuver, and to charge at will. Should 
Alexander and his scanty band dare to plunge into that living sec 
of war, their destruction seemed inevitable. 

Darius felt, however, the critical nature to himself as well as to 
his adversary of the coming encounter. He could not hope to 
retrieve the consequences of a third overthrow. The great cities of 
Mesopotamia and Upper Asia, the central provinces of the Persian 
empire, were certain to be at the mercy of the victor. Darius knew 
also the Asiatic character well enough to be aware how it yields to 
the preatige of success and the apparent career of destiny. He felt 
that the diadem was now to be either firmly replaced on his own 



P4 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

brovr, or to be irrevocably transferred to the head of his Enropeaa 
conqiierer. He, therefore, during the long interval left him after 
the battle of Issus, while Alexander was subjugating Syria and 
Egypt, assiduously busied himself in selecting the best troops 
which his vast empire supplied, and ia training his varied forces to 
aet together with some uniformity of discipline and system. 

The hardy mountaineers of Afghanistan, Bokhara, Khiva, and 
Thibet were then, as at present, far different to the generality of 
Asiatics in warlike spirit and endurance. From these districts 
Darius collected large bodies of admirable infantry ; and the 
countries oC the modern Kurds and Turkomans supplied, as they 
do now, squadrons of horsemen, hardy, skilful, bold, and trained 
to a life of constant activity and warfare. It is not uninteresting 
to notice that the ancestors of our own late enemies, the Sikhs, 
served as allies of Darius against the Macedonians. They are 
spoken of in Arrian as Indians who dwelt near Bactria. They 
were attached to the troops of that satrapy, and their cavalry 
was one of the most formidable forces in the whole Persian army. 

Besides these picked troops, contingents also came in from the 
niimerous other provinces that yet obeyed the Great King. Al- 
together, the horse are said to have been forty thousand, the 
scythe-bearing chariots two hundred, and the armed elephants 
fifteen in number. The amount of the infantry is uncertain ; 
but the knowledge which both ancient and modern times supply 
of the usual character of Oriental armies, and of their popula- 
tions of camp-followers, may warrant us in believing that many 
myriads were prepared to fight, or to encumber those who fought 
for the last Darius. 

The position of the Persian king near Mesopotamia was chosen 
with great military skill. It was certain that Alexander, on 
his return from Egypt, must march northward along the Syrian 
coast before he attacked the central provinces of the Persian 
empire. A direct eastward march from the lower part of Palestine 
across the great Syrian Desert was then, as ever, utterly imprac- 
ticable. Marching eastward from Syria Alexander would, on 
crossing the Euphrates, arrive at the vast Mesopotamian plains. 
The wealthy capitals of the empire, Babylon, Susa, and Persepolis, 
would then lie to the south ; and if he marched down through 
Mesopotamia to attack them, Darius might reasonably hope to 
follow the Macedonians with his immense force of cavalry, and, 
without even risking a pitched battle, to harass and finally over- 
whelm them. We may remember that three centuries after- 
ward a Boman army under Crassus was thus actually destroyed 
by the Oriental archers and horsemen in these very plains,* and 
that the ancestors of the Parthians who thus vanquished the So- 
man legions served by thousands under King Darius. If, on the 

* See Mitford. 



BATTLE OF AEBELA. £5 

contrary, Alexander should defer his march against Babylon, and 
first seek an encounter with the Persian army, the country on 
each side of the Tigris in this latitude was highly advantageous 
for such an army as Darius commanded, and he had close in his^ 
rear the mountainous districts of Northern Media, where he him- 
self had in early life been satrap, where he had acquired reputa- 
tion as a soldier and a general, and where he justly expected to 
find loyalty to his person, and a safe refuge in case of defeat.* 

His great antagonist came on across the Euphrates against 
him, at the head of an army which Arrian, copying from the 
journals of Macedonian officers, states to have consisted of forty 
thousand foot and seven thousand horse. In studying the 
campaigns of Alexander, we possess the peculiar advantage of 
deriving our information from two of Alexander's generals of 
division, who bore an important part in all his enterprises. Aristo- 
bulu9 and Ptolemy ( who afterward became king of Egypt ) kept 
regular journals of the military events which they witnessed, and 
these journals were in the possession of Arrian when he drew up 
Ms history of Alexander's expedition. The high charactar of Ar- 
rian for integrity makes us confident that he used them fairly, 
and hig comments on the occasional discrepancies between the 
two Macedonian narratives prove that he used them sensibly. 
He frequently quotes the very words of his authorities ; and his 
history thus acquires a charm such as very few ancient or modern 
military narratives possess. The anecdotes and expressions 
which he records we fairly believe to be genuine, and not to be 
the coinage of a rhetorician, like those in Curtius. In fact, in 
reading Arrian, we read General Aristobulus and General Ptol- 
emy on the campaigns of the Macedonians, and it is like read- 
ing General Jomini or General Foy on the campaigns of the 
French. 

The estimate which we find in Arrian of the strength of Alex- 
ander's army seems reasonable enough, when we take into account 
both the losses which he had sustained and the re-enforcements 
which he had received since he left Europe. Indeed, to 
Englishmen, who know with what mere handfuls of men our 
own generals have, at Plassy, at Assay e, at Meeanee, and other 
Indian battles, routed large hosts of Asiatics, the desparity of 
numbers that we read of in the victories won by the Macedoni- 
ans over the Persians presents nothing incredible. The army 
which Alexander now led was wholly composed of veteran troops 

* Mltford's remarks on the strategy of Darius in Ms last campaign are 
very just. After liaving been unduly admired as an historian, Mitford is 
now unduly neglected. His partiality, and his deflciency in scholarship 
have heen exposed sufficiently to make him no longer a dangerous guide as 
to Greek poiirics, while the clearness and hrillancy of his narrative, and the 
(itrong common senbe ot his remarKis (where his party prejudices do not 
iateilere), must always make his volumes valuable as well as entertaining. 
D.B.— 3 ^__. ^^ 



$6 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

in the highest possible state of equipment and discipline, enthu- 
siastically devoted to their leader, and full of confidence in hiy 
military genius and his victorious destiny. 

The celebrated Macedonian phalanx formed the main strength 
of his infantry. This force had been raised and organized by his 
father Philip, who, on his accession to the Macedonian throne, 
needed a numerous and quickly-formed army, and who, by length- 
ening the spear of the ordinary Greek phalanx, and increasing 
the depths of the files, brought the tactic of armed masses to the 
highest extent of which it was capable with such materials as 
he possessed. * He formed his men sixteen deep, and placed in 
their grasp the saiissa, as the Macedonian pike was called, which 
was four-and-twenty feet in length, and when couched for action, 
reached eighteen feet in front of the soldier ; so that, as a space 
of about two feet was allowed between the ranks, the spears of 
the five files behind him projected in front of each front-rank 
man. The phalangite soldier was fully equipped in the defens- 
ive armor of the regular Greek infantry. And thus the phalanx 
presented a ponderous and bristling mass, which, as long as its 
order was kept compact, was sure to bear down all opposition. 
The defects of such an organization are obvious, and were proved 
in after years, when the Macedonians were opposed to the Boman 
legions. But it is clear that under Alexander the phalanx was 
not the cumbrous, unwieldy body which it was at Cynoscephalas 
and Pydna. His men were veterans ; and he could obtain from 
them an accuracy of movement and steadiness of evolution such 
as probably the recruits of his father would only have floundered 
in attempting, and such as certainly were impracticable in the 
phalanx when handled by his successors, especially as under 
them it ceased to be a standing force, and became only a militia.f 
Under Alexander the phalanx consisted of an aggregate of eighteen 
thousand men, who were divided into six brigades of three 
thousand each. These were again subdivided into regiments 
and companies ; and the men were carefully trained to wheel, 
to face about, to take more ground, or to close up, as the emer- 
gencies of the battle required. Alexander also arrayed troops 
armed in a different manner in the intervals of the regiments of 
his phalangites, who could prevent their line from being pierced, 
and their companies taken in tian-k, when the nature of the 
ground prevented a close formation, and who could be with- 
drawn when a favorable opportunity arrived for closing up the 
phalanx or any of its brigades for a charge, or when it was 
necessary to prepare to receive cavalry. 

Besides the phalanx, Alexander had a considerable force of 
infantry who were called Shield-bearers: they were^ aot so heavily 
armed as the phalangites, or as was the case witn the Greek 



* gee Niebuhr's " Hist, of Koine," vol. ill., p. 466. t See KieLuiir. 



BATTLE OF ARBELA. 6/ 

regular infantry in general, but they were equipped for close fight 
as well as for skirmishing, and were far superior to the ordinary 
irregular troops of Greek warfare. They were about six thousand 
strong. Besides these, he had several bodies of Greek regular 
infantry; and he had archers, slingers, and javelin-men, who fought 
also with broadsword and target, and who were principally sup- 
plied by the highlanders of Illyra and Thracia. The main 
strength of his cavalry consisted in two chosen regiments of 
cuirassiers, one Macedonian and one Thessalian, each of which 
was about fifteen hundred strong. They were provided with long 
lances and heavy swords, and horse as well as man was fully 
equipped with defensive armor. Other regiments of regular 
cavalry were less heavily armed, and there were several bodies of 
light horsemen, whom Alexander's conquests in Egypt and Syria 
had enabled him to mount superbly. 

A little before the end of August, Alexander crossed the Euphrates 
at Thapsacus, a small corps of Persian cavalry under Mazaeus 
retiring before him. Alexander was too prudent to march down 
through the Mesopotamian deserts, and continued to advance 
eastward with the intention of passing the Tigris, and then, if he 
was unable to find Darius and bring him to action, of marching 
southward on the left side of that river along the skirts of a moun- 
tainous district where his men would sufier less from heat and 
thirst, and where provisions would be more abundant. 

Darius, finding that his adversary was not to be enticed into the 
march through Mesopotamia against his capital, determined to 
remain on the battle-ground, which he had chosen on the left of 
the Tigris; where, if his enemy met a defeat or a check, the de- 
struction of the invaders would be certain with two such rivers as 
the Euj)hrates and the Tigris in their rear. The Persian king 
availed himself to the utmost of every advantage in his power. He 
caused a large space of ground to be carefully leveled for the oper- 
ation of his scythe-armed chariots; and he deposited his military 
stores in the strong town of Arbela, about twenty miles in his rear. 
The rhetoricians of after ages have loved to describe Darius Codo- 
manus as a second Xerxes in ostentation and imbecility; but a 
fair examination of his generalship in this his last campaign 
shows that he was worthy of bearing the same name as his great 
predecessor, the royal son of Hystaspes. 

( n learning that Darius was with a large army on the left of the 
Tigris, Alexander hurried forward and crossed that river without 
opposition. He was at first unable to procure any certain intelli- 
gence of the precise position of the enemy, and after giving his 
army a short interval of rest, he marched for four days down the 
left bank of the river. A moralist may pause upon the fact that 
Alexander must in this march have passed within a few miles of 
the ruins of Nineveh, the great city of the primseval conquerers of 
the human race. Neither the Macedonian king nor any of his fol. 



68 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

lowers knew what those vast mounds had once been. They had 
already sunk in litter destruction ; and it is only within the last 
few years that the intellectual energj^ of one of our own countrymen 
has rescued Nineveh from its long centuries of oblivion.* 

On the fourth day of Alexander's southward march, his advanced 
guard reported that a body of the enemy's cavalry was in sight. 
He instantly formed his army in order for battle, and directing 
them to advance steadilj^ he rode forward at the head of some 
squadrons of cavalry, and charged the Persian horse whom he 
found before him. This was a mere reconnoitering party, and they 
broke and tied immediately; but the Macedonians made some 
prisoners, and from them Alexander found that Darius was posted 
only a few miles oft', and learned the strength of the army that he 
had with him. On receiving this news Alexander halted, and gave 
his men repose for four days, so that they should go into action 
fresh and vigorous. He also fortified his camp and deposited in 
it all his military stores, and all his sick and disabled soldiers, 
intending to advance upon the enemy with the serviceable part of 
his army perfectly unencumbered. After this halt, he moved 
forward, while it was yet dark, with the intention of reaching the 
enemy, and attacking them at break of day. About half way 
between the camj)s there were some undulations of the ground, 
which concealed the two armies from each other's view; but, on 
Alexander arriving at their summit, he saw, by the early light, the 
Persian host arrayed before him, and he probably also observed 
traces of some engineering operation having been carried on along 
part of the ground in front of them. Not knowing that these 
marks had been caused by the Persians having leveled the ground 
for the free use of their war-chariots, Alexander suspected that 
hidden x^itfalls had been prepared with a view of disordering the 
approach of his cavalry. He summoned a council of war forthwith. 
Some of the officers were lor attacking instantly, at all hazards; 
but the more prudent opinion of Parmenio prevailed, and it was 
determined not to advance further till the battle-ground had been 
carefull}'- surveyed. 

Alexander halted his army on the heights, and, taking with him 
some light-armed infantry and some cavalry, he passed part of the 
day in reconnoitering the enemy, and observing the nature of the 
ground which he had to fight on. Darius wisely refrained from 
moving his position to attack the Macedonians on the eminences 
which they occupied, and the two armies remained until night 
without molesting each other. On Alexander's return to his head- 
quarters, he summoned his generals and superior officers together, 
and telling them that he well knew that their zeal wanted no exhor- 
tatii^n, he besought them to do their utmost in encouraging and 

* See Layard's '• Nine veil," and see Vaux's ":J\meve]i and Persepolis." 
p. 16. 



BATTLE OF ARBELA. • C9 

instructing those whom each commanded, to do their best in the 
next day's battle. They were to remind them that they were now 
not going to fight for a province as they had hitherto fought, but 
they were about to decide by their swords the dominion of all 
Asia. Each of&cer ought to impress this upon his subalterns, and 
they should urge it on their men. Their natural courage required 
no long words to excite its ardor; but they should be reminded of 
the paramount importance of steadiness in action. The silence in 
the ranks must be unbroken as long as silence was proper; but 
\when the time came for the charge, the shout and the cheer must 
be full of terror for the foe. The officers were to be alert in receiv- 
ing and communicating orders; and every one was to act as if he 
felt that the whole result of the battle depended on his own single 
good conduct. 

Having thus briefly instructed his generals, Alexander ordered 
that the army should sup, and take their rest for the night. 

Darkness had closed over" the tents of the Macedonians, when 
Alexander's veteran general, Parmenio, came to him, and proposed 
that they should make a night attack on the Persians; The king 
is said to have answered that he scorned to filch a victory, and that 
Alexander must conquer openly and fairly, Adrian justly re- 
marks that Alexander's resolution was as wise as it was spirited. 
Besides the confusion and uncertainty which are inseparable from 
night engagements, the value of Alexander's victory woTild have 
been impaired, if gained under circumstances which might supply 
the enemy with any excuse for his defeat, and encouraged him to 
renew the contest. It was necessary for Alexander not only to beat 
Darius, but to gain such a victory as should leave his rival without 
apology and without hope of recovery. 

The Persians, in fact, expected, and were prepared to meet a 
night attack. Such was the apjorehension that Darius entertained 
of it, that he formed his troops at evening in order of battle, and 
kept them under arms all night. The effect of this was, that the 
morning found them jaded and dispirited, while it brought their 
adversaries all fresh and vigorous against them. 

The written order of battle which Darius himself caused to be 
drawn up, fell into the hands of the Macedonians after the engage- 
ment, and Aristobulus copied it into his journal. "We thus possess, 
through Adrian, unusually authentic information as to the compo- 
sition and arrangement of the Persian army. On the extreme left 
were the Bactrian, Daan, and Arachosian cavalry. Next to these 
Darius placed the troops from Persia proper, both horse and foot. 
Then came the Susians, and next to these the Cadusians. These 
forces made up the left wing, Darius's own station was in the 
center. This was composed of the Indians, the Carians, the Mar- 
dian archers, and the division of Persians who were distinguished 
by the golden apples that formed the knobs of their spears. Here 
also were stationed the body-guard of the Persian nobility. Besides 



70 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

these, there Vere, in the center, formed in deep order, the Uxian 
and Babylonian troops, and the soldiers from the Eed Sea. The 
brigade of Greek mercenaries, whom Dariiis had in his service, 
and who alone were considered fit to stand the charge of the Mace- 
donian phalanx, was drawn np on either side of the royal chariot. 
The ri<^ht wing was composed of the Calosyrians and Mesopota- 
mians, the Medcs, the Parthinns, the Sacians, the Tapnrians, 
Hycanians, Albanians, and Sacesim^. In advance of the line on the 
left wing were placed the Scythian cavalry, with a thousand of the 
Bactrian horse, and a hundred scythe-armed chariots. The ele- 
phants and fifty scythe-armed chariots were ranged in front of the 
center, and fifty more chariots, with the Armenian and Cappado- 
cian cavalry, were drawn up in advance of the right wing. 

Thus arrayed, the great host of King Darius passed the night, 
that to many thousands of them was the last of their existence. 
The morning of the first of October,* two thousand one hundred 
and eighty-two years ago, dawned slowly to their wearied watch- 
ing, and thoy could hear the note of the Macedonian trumpet 
sounding to arms, and could see King Alexander's forces descend 
from their tents oh the heights, and form in order of battle on the 
plain. 

There was deep need of skill, as well as of valor, on Alexander's 
side: and few battle-fields have witnessed more consummate 
generalship than was displayed by the JMacedonian king. There 
were no natural barriers by which he could protect his fianks; and 
not only was he certain to be overlapped on either wing by the 
vast lines of the Persian army, but there was imminent risk of their 
circling round him, and charging him in the rear, while he ad- 
vanced against their center. He formed, therefore, a second or 
reserve line, which was to wheel round, if required, or to detach 
troops to either flank, as the enemy's movements might necessitate; 
and thus, with their whole army ready at any moment to be thrown 
into one vast hollow square, the Macedonians advanced in two 
lines against the enemy, Alexander himself leading on the right 
wing, and the renowned phalanx forming the center, while Par- 
menio commanded on the left. 

Such was the general nature of the disposition which Alexander 
made of his armV. But we have in Arrian the details of the posi- 
tion of each brigade and regiment ; and as we know that these 
details were taken from the journals of Macedonian generals, it is 
interesting to examine them, and to read the names and stations 
of King Alexander's generals and colonels in this, the greatest of 
his battles . 

The eight regiments of the royal horse-guards formed the right of 



* See Clinton's " Fasti Hellenlcl." Tlie battle was fought eleven clays 
after an ecUpse of tlie moon, wliicli gives tlie means of fixing- tlie precise 
ate. 



BATTLE OF ABBELA. 71 

Alexander's line. Their colonels were Cleitus (whose regiment was 
on the extreme right, the post of peculiar danger), Glaucias, Aris- 
ton, Sopolis, Heracleides, Demetrias, Meleager, and Hegelochus. 
Philotas was general of the whole division. Then came the Shield- 
bearing infantry : Nicanor was their general. Then came the pha- 
lanx in six brigades. Ccenus's brigade was on the,right, and nearest 
to the Shield-bearers ; next to this stood the brigade of Perdiccas, 
then Meleager's, then Polyp erchon's ; and then the brigade of 
Amynias, but which was now commanded by Simmias, as Amynias 
had been sent to Macedonia to levy recruits. Then came the infantry 
of the left wing, under the command of Craterus. Next to Crate- 
rus's infantry were placed the cavalry regiments of the allies, with 
Eriguius for their general. The Thessalian cavalry, commanded by 
Phiiippus, were next, and held the extreme left of the whole army. 
The whole left wing was entrusted to the command of Parmenio, 
who had round his person the Phalian regiment of cavalry, which 
was the strongest and best of all the Thessalian horse regiments. 

The center of the second line was occupied by a body of phalan- • 
gite infantry, formed of companies which were drafted for this 
purpose from each of the brigades of their phalanx. The of&cers in 
command of this corps were ordered to be ready to face about, if 
the enemy should succeed in gaining the rear of the army. On 
the right of this reserve of infantry , in the second line, and behind 
the royal horse-guards, Alexander placed half the Agrian light- 
armed infantry under Attains, and with them Brison's body of 
Macedonian archers and Oleander's regiment of foot. He also 
placed in this part of his army Menida's squadron of cavalry, and 
Artes's and Ariston's light horse. Menidas was ordered to watch 
if the enemy's cavalry tried to turn their flank, and, if they did so, 
to charge them before they wheeled completely round, and take 
them in flank themselves. A similar force was arranged on the 
left of the second line for the same purpose. The Thracian in- 
fantry of Stitalces were placed there, and Coeranus's regiment of 
the cavalry of the Greek allies, and Agathon's troops of the Odrysian 
irregular horse. The extreme lelt of the second line in this quarter 
was held by Andromachus's cavalry, A division of the Thracian 
infantry was left in guard of the camp. In advance of the righo 
wing and center was scattered a number of light-armed troops, 
of javelin-men and bow men, with the intention of warding off the 
charge of the armed chariots.* 

Conspicuous by the brilliancy of Ms armor, and by the choseTi 
band of officers who were round his person, Alexander took ftis 
own station, as his custom was, in the right wing, at the head ot bis 



* Kleber's arrangement of his troops ac one cattle oi Jieuopolis, whera 
with ten thousancl Europeans, he had to encounter eighty thousand. Asiap J 
m an open plain, is worth comparing with Alexander's cactto i-tia'jj. - 
See Tliiejcs's. " iiistoii'e du iJonmhxt," 4c,i ?oi. 4i., Wim 9» ^ 



79 DECISiri: BATTLES. 

cavalry ? nnd wben nil the arranG:ements f-.^r the battle were ccm« 
plete nnd liis ^tiierals were fully iustrueted liow to act in each 
probaole emergem-v, be begnn to load liis men toward the enouy. 
It svas ever his custom to expose his life freely in battle, and to 
emmate the personal prowess of his great ancestor, Achilles. Per- 
hap.-!, in the bold enterprise of conquering Persia, it was politio 
for Alexander to raise his army's daring to the utmost by tlie ex- 
ample of his own heroic valor ; and, in his subsequent campaigns^ 
the love of excitement, of "the raptures of the strife," may have 
made him, like Murat, continue from clioice a ciTstom which he 
commenced from duty. Biit he never suflered the ardor of a soldier* 
to make him loose the coolness of the general, and at Arbela, in 
particular, he showed that he could act up to his lavorite Homeric 
maxim of being 

\ljii(p6rEpov, fiadiXsvi r' dya^oi xparspo'i r aix^TjTi]^. 

Great reliai^ce had been placed by the Persian king on the effect, 
of the scythe-bearing chariots. It was designed to launch these 
against the Macedonian phalanx, and to follow them up by a heavy 
charge of cavalry, which, it was hoped, would find the ranks of the 
spearmen disordered by the rush of the chariots, and easily destroy 
this most formidable part of Alexander's force. In front, therefore, 
of the Persian center, where Darius took his station, and which it 
was supposed the phalanx would attack, the ground had been care- 
fully leveled and smoothed, so as to allow the chariots to charge 
over it with their full sweep and speed. As the Macedonian army 
approached the Hersian, Alexander found that the front of his 
whole line barely equalled the front line of the Persian center, so 
that he was outranked on the right by the entire left wing of the 
enemy, and by their entire right wing on the left. His tactics were 
to assail some one point of the hostile army, and gain a decisive 
advantage, while he refused, as far as possible the encounter along 
the rest of the line. He therefore inclined his order of march to 
the right, so as to enable his right wing and center to come into 
collision with the enemy on as favorable terms as possible, al- 
though the maneuver might in some respect compromise his left. 

The effect of this oblique movement was to bring the phalanx 
and his own wing nearly beyond the limits of the ground which 
the Persians had prepared for the operations of the chariots; and 
Darius, fearing to lose the benefit of this arm against the most im- 
portant parts of the Macedonian force, ordered the Scythian and 
Bactrian cavalry, who were drawn up in advance on his extreme 
left,. to charge round upon Alexander's right wing, and check its 
further lateral progress. Against these assailants Alexander sent 
from his second line Menidas's cavalry. As these proved too few 
to make head against the enemy, he ordered Ariston also from the 
second line with his light horse, and Oleander with his foot, in 
ftiipport of Menidas. The Bactrians and Scvthians now began to 



BATTLE OF ABB EL A. 73 

gire "way, out Darius re-enforced them by the mass of Bactrian 
cavalry from his main line, and an obstinate cavalry fight novv^ 
took place. The Bactrians and Scythians vi^ere numerous, and 
were better armed than the horseman under Menidas and Aris- 
ton; and tbe loss at first was heaviest on the Macedonian side. 
But still the European cavalry stood the charge of the Asiatics, 
iand at last, by their superior discipline, and by acting in squad- 
rons that supported each other,* instead of fighting in a confused 
mass like the barbarians, the Macedonians broke their adversaries, 
and drove them off the field. 

Darius now^ directed the scythe-armed chariots to be driven 
against Alexander's horse-guards and the phalanx, and these for- 
midable vehicles were accordingly sent rattling across the plain, 
against the Macedonian line. When we remember the alarm which 
the war chariots of the Britons created among Caisar's legions, 
we shall not be prone to deride this arm of ancient warfare as al- 
ways useless. The object of the chariot was to create unsteadiness 
in the ranks against which they were driven, and squadrons 
of cavalry followed close upon them to profit by such disorder. 
But the Asiatic chariots were rendered ineffective at Arbela by the 
light-armed troops, whom Alexander had specially apjjointed for 
the service, and who, wounding the horses and drivers with their 
missile weapons, and running along-side so as to cut the traces 
or seize the reins, marred the intended charge; and the few 
chariots that reached the phalanx passed harmlessly through the 
inte;rvals which the spearmen opened for them, and were easily 
captured in the rear. 

A mass of Asiatic cavalry was now, for the second time, collect- 
ed against Alexander's extreme right, and moved round it, with 
the view of gaining the flank of his army. At the critical moment, 
when their own flanks were exposed by this evolution, Aretes 
dashed on the Persian squadrons with his horsemen from Alexan- 
der's second line. While Alexander thus met and baffled all the 

* ''AXXd uai ooi rex's 7tpod/joXd<S avrc^v eda'xovro oi MaxeSo- 
VEi, ytal csoio uar iXaS TtpodTtiTtrovrei k^uoOovv Ik rrji TaS,EGD<S. 
— Abrian, lit), iil., c. 13. 

I'he best explanation of this may he found In Napoleon's account of the 
cavalry fights between the French and the Mamelukes. " Two Mamelukes 
weie able to make head against three Frenchmen, because they were better 
armed, brtter mounted, and better trained ; they had two pair ot pistols, a 
blunderbuss, a carabine, a helmet with a visor, and a coat of mail; they had 
several horses, and several attendants on foot. One hundred cuirassiers, 
however, were not afraid of one hundred ]'^amelukes ; three hundred could 
beat an equal number, and one thousand could easily put to the rout fifteen 
hundred, so great Is the influence of tactics, order, and evolutions ! leclerc 
and Lasalle presented their men to the Mamelukes in scvpral lines. M hen 
the Arabs were on the point of overwhelming the first. tliC second camo to 
Its assistance on the right and left; the Mamelukes tlien halted and wheeled, 
m order to turn the wings of this new line ; this moment was always sei/, 
ed upon to charge them, and they were uniformly broken,"— Montholon's 
" History of Captivity o£ Kapoleon," vol, Iv., n. 70. 



74 DECISIVE BATTLES, 

flanking attacks of the enemy -with troops bronglit up from hin 
second line, he kept his own horse-guards and the rest of the front 
line of his wing fresh, and ready to take advantage of the first op- 
portunity for striking a decisive blow. This soon came. A large 
body of horse, who w- ere posted on the Persian left wing nearest 
to the center, quitted their station, and rode off to help their com- 
rades in the cavalry fight, that still was going on at the extreme 
right of Alexander's wing against the detachments from his second 
line. This mad e a huge gap in the Persian array, and into this 
space Alexander instantly charged with his guard and all the cav- 
alry of his wing; and then pressing toward his left, he soon began 
to make havoc in the left flank of the Persian center. The 
Shield-bearing infantry now charged also among the reeling masses 
of the Asiatics; and five of the brigades of the phalanx, with 
the irrestiblo might of their sarisas, bore down the Greek mercen- 
aries of Darius, and dug their way through the Persian center. In 
the early part of the battle Darius had showed skill and energy; 
and he now, for some time, encouraged his men, by voice and 
example, to keep firm. But the lances of Alexander's cavalry and 
the pikes of the phalanx now pressed nearer and nearer to him. 
His charioteer was struck down by a javelin at his side; and at 
last Darius's nerve failed him, and, descending from his chariot, 
he mounted on a fleet horse and galloped from the plain, regard- 
less of the state of the battle in other parts of the field, where 
matters were going on much more favorably for his cause, and 
where his presence might have done much toward gaining a vic- 
tory. 

Alexander's operations with his right and center had exposed 
his left to o-n immensely preponderating force of the enemy. Par- 
menio kept out of action as long as possible ; but Mazffius, who 
commanded the Persian right wing, advanced against him, com- 
pletely outflanked him, and pressed him severely with reiterated 
charges by superior numbers. Seeing the distress of Parmenio's 
wing, Simmias, who commanded the sixth brigade of the phalanx, 
which was next to the left wing, did not advance with the other 
brigades in the great charge upon the Persian center, but kept 
back to cover Parmenio's troops on their right flank, as otherwise 
they would have been completely surrounded and cut off" from the 
rest of the Macedonian army. By so doing, Simmias had un- 
avoidably opened a gap in the Macedonian left center, and a large 
column of Indian and Persian horse from the Persian right center, 
had galloped forward through this interval, and right through the 
troops of the Macedonian second line. Instead of then wheeling 
around upon Parmenio, or upon the rear of Alexander's conquer- 
ing wing, the Indian or Persian cavalry rode straight on to th© 
Macedonian camp, overpowered the Thracians who were left in 
charge of it, and began to plunder. This was stopped by the 
phalangite troops of the second line, who, after the enemy's horse* 



BATTLE OF ABBELA. 75 

men had rushed by them, faced about, countermarched upon the 
camp, killed many of the Indians and Persians in the act of plun- 
dering, and forced the rest to ride off again. Just at this crisis, 
Alexander had been recalled from his pursuit of Darius by tidings 
of the distress of Parmenio, and of his inability to bear up any 
longer against the hot attacks of Mazseus. Taking his horse-guards 
■with him, Alexander rode toward the part of the field where his 
left wing was fighting; but oh his way thither he encountered the 
Persian and Indian cavalry, on their return from his camp. • 

These men now saw that their only chance of safety was to cut 
their way through, and in one huge column they charped des-per- 
ately upon the Macedonian regiments. There was here a close 
hand-to-hand fight, which lasted some time, and sixty of the royal 
horse-guards fell, and three generals, who fought close to Alexan- 
der's side were wounded. At length the Macedonian discipline 
and valor again prevailed, and a large number of the Persian and 
Indian horsemen were cut down, some few only succeeding in 
breaking through and riding away. Kelieved of these obstinate 
enemies, Alexander again formed his regiments of horse-guards, 
and led them toward Parmenio; but by this time that general also 
was victorious. Probably the news of Darius's flight had reached 
Maz83us, and had dami^ed the ardor of the Persian right wing, 
while the tidings of their comrades' success must have proportion- 
ally encouraged the Macedonian forces under Parmenio. His 
Thessalian cavalry particularly distinguished themselves by their 
gallantry and persevering good conduct; and by the time that 
Alexander had ridden up to Parmenio, the w^hole Persian army 
was in full flight from the field. 

It was of the deepest importance to Alexander to secure the per- 
son of Darius, and he now urged on the pursuit. The Eiver 
Lycus was between the field of battle and the city of Arbela, 
whither the fugitives directed their course, and the passage of this 
river was even more destructive to the Persians than the swords 
land spears of the Macedonians had been in the engagement. * The 
narrow bridge was soon choked up by the flying thousands \vho 
rushed toward it, and vast numbers of the Persians threw them- 
selves, or were hurried by others, into the rapid stream, and per- 
ished in its waters. Darius had crossed it, and had ridden on 
through Arbela without halting. Alexander reached that city on 
the next day, and made himself master of all Darius's treasure and 
stores; but the Persian king, unfortunately for himself, had fled 
too fast for his conquerer, but had only escaped to perish by the 
treachery of his Bactrian satrap, Bessus. 

A few days after the battle Alexander entered Babylon, "the 

* I purposely omit any statement of tlie loss In the battle. There is a pal- 
pable error o£ the transcrlhers in the niunhers which we find in our present 
manuscripts of Arrian, and Curtius is o£ no authority . 



76 DECIsnrE BATTLES, 

oldest seat of earthlj'- empire" then in existence, as its ackno-wl, 
edged lord and master. There were yet some campaigns of his 
brief and bright career to be accomplished. Central Asia was yet 
to witness the march of his phalanx. He was yet to effect that 
conqx^est of Afghanistan in which England since has failed. Hia 
generalship, as well as his valor, were yet to be signalized on the 
banks of the Hydaspes and the field of Chillian wallah; and he wai=\ 
yet to precede the Qneen of England in annexing the Pnnjaiib to 
the dominions of a European sovereign. But the crisis of his ca- 
reer M-as reached; the great object of his mission was accomplished; 
and the ancient Persian empire, which once menaced all the na- 
tions of the eai-th with subjection, was irreparably crushed when 
Alexander had won his crowning victory at Arbela. 



Synopsis of Events between the Battle op Abbela and the 
Battle of the Metaueus. 

B. C. 330. The Lacedaemonians endeavor to create a rising in 
Greece against the Macedonian power; they are defeated by An- 
tipater, Alexander's vicerov; and their king, Agis, falls in the 
battle. 

330 to 327. Alexander's campaigns in Upper Asia. 

327, 326. Alexander marches through Afghanistan to the Pun- 
jaub. He defeats Porus. His troops refuse to march toward the 
Ganges, and he commences the descent of the Indli^s. On his 
march he attacks and subdues several Indian tribes — among others, 
the Malli, in the storming of whose capital (Mooltan) he is severely 
wounded. He directs his admiral, Nearchus, to sail round 
from the Indus to the Persian Gulf, and leads the army back across 
Scinde and Beloochistan. 

324. Alexander returns to Babylon. " In the tenth year after he 
had crossed the Hellespont, Alexander, having won his vast do- 
minion, entered Babylon; and resting from his career in that old- 
est seat of earthly empire, he steadily surveyed the mass of various 
nations which owned his sovereignty, and resolved in his mind 
the great work of breathing into this huge but inert body the living 
spirit of Greek civilization. In the bloom of youthful manhood, 
at the age of thirty-two, he paused from the fiery speed of his 
earlier course, and for the first time gave the nations an oppor- 
tunity of oft'ering their homage before his throne'. They came 
from all extremities of the earth to propitiate his anger, to celebrate 
his greatness, or to solicit his protection. * * * History may allow 
us to think that Alexander and a Poman embassador did meet at 
Babylon; that the greatest man of the ancient world saw and spoke 
with a citizen of that great nation which was destined to succeed 
him in his appointed work, and to found a wider and still more 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS AFTER ABBELA. 77 

enduring empire. They met, too, in Babylon, almost beneath the 
shadow of the Temple of Bel, perhaps the earliest monument 
ever raised by human pride and power in a city, stricken, as it 
were, by the word of God's heaviest judgment, as the symbol of 
greatness apart from and opposed to goodness." — (Ajbnold.) 

323. Alexander dies at Babylon. On his death being known at 
Greece, the Athenians, and others of the southern states, take up 
arms to shake off the domination of Macedon. They are at first 
successful; but the return of some of Alexander's veterans from 
Asia enables Antipater to prevail over them. 

317 to 2S9. Agathocles is tyrant of Syracuse, and carries on 
repeated wars with the Carthaginians, in the course of which 
(311) he invades Africa, and reduces the Carthaginians to great 
distress. 

306. After a long series of wars with each other, and after all 
th'j heirs of Alexander had been murdered, his principal surviv- 
ing generals assume the title of king, each over the provinces 
v/hich he. has occupied. The four chief among them were An- 
tigonus, Ptolemy, Lysimachus, and Seleucus. Antipater was now 
dead, but his son Cassander succeeded to his power in Macedonia 
and Greece. 

301. Seleucus and Lysimachus defeat Antigonus at Ipsus. An- 
tigonus is killed in the battle. 

280. Seleucus, the last of Alexander's captains, is assassinated. 
Of all of Alexander's successors, Seleucus had formed the most 
powerful empire. He had acquired all the provinces between 
Phrygia and the Indus. He extended his dominion in India be- 
yond the limits reached by Alexander. Seleucus had some sparks 
of his great master's genius in promoting civilization and com- 
merce, as well as in gaining victories. Under his successors, the 
Seleucidae. this vast empire rapidly diminished: Bactria became 
independent, and a separate dynasty of Greek kings ruled therein 
the year 125, when it was overthrown by the Scythian tribe. Par- 
thia threw off its allegiance to the Seleucidse in 250 B.C., and the 
powerful Parthian kingdom, which afterward proved so formidable 
a foe to Eome, absorbed nearly all the provinces west of the 
Euphrates that had obeyed the first Seleucus. Before the battle 
of Ipsus, Mithradates, a Persian prince of the blood-royal of the 
Achsemenidae, had escaped to Pontus, and founded there the king« 
dom of that name. 

Besides the kingdom of Seleucus, which, when limited to Syria, 
Palestine, and parts of Asia Minor, long survived, the most im«. 
portant kingdom formed by a general of Alexander was that of the 
Ptolemies in Egypt. The throne of Macedonia was long and ob- 
stinately contended for by Cassander, Polysperchon, Lysimachus, 
Pyrrhus, Antigonus, and others, but at last was secured by the 
dynasty of An*^igonus Gonatas. The old republics of Southern 
Greece suffered severely during these tumults, and the only Greek 



78 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

states tliat stowed any strength and spirit were the cities of the 
Achaean league, the ^tolians, and the islanders of Rhodes. 

290. Borne had now thoroughly subdued the Samnites and the 
Etruscans, and had gained numerous victories over the Cisalpine 
Gauls. Wishing to confirm her dominion in Lower Italy, she be- 
jCame entangled in a war with Pyrrhus, fourth king of Epirus, who 
■was called over by the Tarentines to aid them. Pyrrhus was at first 
victorious, but in the year 275 was defeated by the Eoman legions 
in a pitched battle. He returned to Greece, remarking of Sicily, 
O'lav (XTtoXeiTtojiis'y KapxTjSovioii Hai'PGoa/nioi's TtaXaidrpav. 
Rome becomes mistress of all Italy from the Rubicon to the Straits 
of Messina. 

284:. The first Punic war begins. Its primary cause was the 
desire of both the Romans and the Carthaginians to possess them- 
selves of Sicily. The Romans form a fleet, and successfully com- 
pete with the marine of Carthage.* During the latter half of the 
war the military genius of Hamilcar Barca sustains the Cartha- 
ginian cause in Sicily. At the end of twenty-four years the Car- 
thaginians sue for peace, though their aggregate loss in ships and 
men had been less than that sustained by the Romans since the 
beginning of the war. Sicily becomes a Roman province, 

240 to 218. The Carthaginian mercenaries who had been brought 
back from Sicily to Africa mutiny against Carthage, and nearly 
succeed in destroying her. After a sanguinary and desperate 
struggle, Hamilcar Barca crushes them. During the season of 
weakness to Carthage, Rome takes from her the island of Sardinia. 
Hamilcar Barca forms the project of obtaining compensation by 
conquests in Spain, and thus enabling Carthage to renew the 
struggle with Rome. He takes Hannibal (then a child) to Spain 
with him. He, and, after his death, his brother win great part of 
Southern Spain to the Carthaginian interest. Hannibal obtains 
the command of the Carthaginian armies in Spain 221 e.g., being 
then twenty-six years old. He attacks Saguntum, a city on the 
Ebro, in alliance with Rome, which is the immediate pretext for 
the second Punic war. 

During the interval Rome had to sustain a storm from the North. 
The Cisalpine Gauls, in 226, formed an alliance with one of the 
fi.ercest tribes of their brethren north of the Alps, and began a 
furious war against the Romans, which lasted six years. The Romans 
gave them several severe defeats, and took from them part of their 
territories near the Po. It was on this occasion that the Roman 
colonies of Cremona and Placentia were founded, the latter of 

* There is at tMs present moment In the Great Exhibition at Hyde Park a 
model of a piratical galley of Lalbuan, part of the mast of which can he let 
down on the enemy, and form a hridge for hoarders. It is worth while to 
compare this with the account of Polyhius of the hoarding bridges which 
t'le I'omau admiral, Duillius, affixed to the masts of his galleys, and by 
Luc'ans oi which he won his great victory over tiie Carthaginian fleet. 



BATTLE OF THE METAUBUS, 79 

which did such essential service to Kome in the second Punio 
war by the resistance which it made to the army of Hasdrubal. A 
muster-roll was made in this war of the effective military force of 
the Romans themselves, and of those Italian states that were sub- 
ject to them. The returns showed a force of seven hundred thou- 
sand foot and seventy thousand horse, Polybius, who mentions 
this muster, remarks, 'E<p' ov<i Arvi/jai kXazTovi 'ixoov di6MV'- 
piGDv, eTtaj^akev eii rifv ''IraXiav. 
218. Hannibal crosses the Alps and invades Italy. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE BATTLE OF THE METAUEUS, B.C. 207. 

Quid debeas, O Eoma, Neronlbus, 
Testis Metaurum flumen, et Hasdrubal 
Devictus, et pulclier fugatls 
Ille dies Latio tenebris, &c. 

HORATIUS, iv. Od. 4. 

The consul Nero, wbo made the unequalled marcb which deceived Han- 
nibal and defeated Hasdrubal, thereby accomplishing an achievement 
almost unrivaled inmiUtary annals. The first IntelUgence of his return, to 
Hannibal, was the sight of Hasdrubal's head thrown into his camp. When 
Hannibal saw this, he exclaimed, with a sigh, that '• Kome would now be 
the mistress of the world." To this %actoiy of Nero's it might be owing 
that his imperial namesake reigned at all. But the infamy of the one has 
eclipsed the glory of the other. When the name of Nero is heard, who 
thinks of the consul I But such are human things,— Byron. 

About midway between Rimini and Ancona a little river falls 
into the Adriatic, after traversing one of those districts of Italy in 
which a vain attempt has lately been made to revive, after long 
centuries of servitude and shame, the spirit of Italian nationality 
and the energy of free institutions. That stream is still called 
the Metauro, and wakens by its name the recollection of the reso- 
lute daring of ancient Rome, and of the slaughter that stained 
its current two thousand and sixty-three years ago, when the com- 
bined consular armies of Livius and Nero encountered and 
crushed near its banks the varied hosts which Hannibal's brother 
was leading from the Pyrenees, the Rhone, the Alps, and the Po, 
to aid the great Carthaginian in his stern struggle to annihi- 
late the growing might of the Roman republic, and make the 
Punic power supreme over ail tiie nations of the world. 

The Roman lijstorian, who termed that struggle the most mem« 



80 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

orable of all wars that ever -were carried on,* wrote in tlie spirit of 
exaggeration , for it is not in ancient, but in modern history, that 
parallels for its incidents and its heroes are to be found. The 
similitude between the contest which Home maintained against 
Hannibal, and that which England was for many years engaged in 
against Napoleon, has not passed unobserved by recent historians. 
" Twice," says Arnold,! "has there been witnessed the struggle of 
the highest individual genius against the resources and institu- 
tions of a great nation, and in both cases the nation has been vic- 
torious. For seventeen years Hannibal strove against Rome ; for 
sixteen years Napoleon Bonaparte strove against England : the 
'efforts of the first ended in Zama ; those of the second, in Water- 
loo." One point, however, of the similitude between the two 
wars has scarcely been adequately dwelt on ; that is, the remark- 
able parallel between the Eoman general who finally defeated 
the great Carthaginian, and the English general who gave the 
last deadly overthrow to the French emperor. Scipio and Wel- 
lington both held for many years commands of high impor- 
tance, but distant from the main theaters of warfare. The same 
country was the scene of the principal military career of each. 
It was in Spain that Scipio, like Wellington, successively encoun- 
tered and overthrew nearly all the subordinate generals of the 
enemy before being opposed to the chief champion and conquerer 
himself. Both Scipio and Wellington restored their countrymen's 
confidence in arms when shaken by a series of reverses, and each 
of them closed a long and perilous war by a complete and over- 
whelming defeat of the chosen leader and the chosen veterans of 
the foe. 

Nor is the parallel between them limited to their military char- 
".cters and exploits. Scipio, like Wellington, became an important 
leader of the aristocratic party among his countrymen, and was 
•exposed to the unmeasured invectives of the violent section of his 
political antagonists. When, early in the last reign, an infuriated 
inob assaulted the Duke of Wellington in the streets of the Eng- 
lish capital on the anniversary of Waterloo, England was even 
more disgraced by that outrage than Rome was by the factious ac- 
cusations which demagogues brought against Scipio, but which he 
proudly repelled on the day of trial by reminding the assembled 
people that it was the anniversary of the battle of Zama. Happily, 
a wiser and a better spirit has now for years pervaded all classes of 
our community, and we shall be spared the ignominy of having 
worked out to the end the parallel of national ingratitude. Scipio 
died a voluntary exile from the malevolent turbulence of Rome. 
Englishmen of all ranks and politics have now long united in 
aff'ectionate admiration of our modern Scipio ; and even those who 
have most widely difl"ered from the duke on legislative or adminis- 

* LlV7, lib. xxi., sec. 1. t Vol. iii., p. 62. See also Alison, passim. 



BATTLE OF THE METAURUS. 81 

trative questions, forget what they deem the political errors of that 
time-honored head, while they gratefully call to mind the laurels 
that have wreathed it. 

Scipio at Zama trampled in the dust the power of Carthage, but 
that power had been already irreparably shattered in another 
field, where neither Scipio nor Hannibal commanded. "When the 
Metaurus witnessed the defeat and death of Husdrubal, it wit- 
nessed the ruin of the scheme by which alone Carthage could hope 
to organize decisive success— the scheme of enveloping Eome at 
once from the north and the south of Italy by two chosen armies, 
led by two sons of Hamilcar. * That battle was the determining 
crisis of the contest, not merely between Eome and Carthage, but 
between the two great families of the world, which then made 
Italy the arena of their oft-renewed contest for pre-eminence. 

The French historian, Michelet, whose "Histoire Eomaine" 
"would have been invaluable if the general industry and accuracy 
of the writer had in any degree equalled his originality and bril- 
liancy, eloquently remarks, "It is not without reason that so 
universal and vivid a remembrance of the Punic wars Jias dwelt in 
the memories of men. They formed no mere struggle to deter- 
mine the lot of two cities or two empires ; but it was a strife, on 
the event of which depended the fate of two races of mankind, 
whether the dominion of the world should belong to the Indo- 
Germanic or to the Semitic family of nations. Bear in mind that 
the first of these comprises, beside the Indians and the Persians, 
the Greeks, the Komans,, and the Germans. In the other are 
ranked the Jews and the Arabs, the Phenicians and the Carthagi- 
nians. On the one side is the genius of heroism, of art, and legisla- 
tion ; on the other is the spirit of industry, of commerce, of 
navigation. The two opposite races have every where come into 
contact, every where into hostility. In the primitive history of 
Persia and Chaldea, the heroes are perpetually engaged in combat 
with their industrious and perfidious neighbors. The struggle is 
renewed between the Phenicians and the Greeks on every coast of 
the Mediterranean. The Greek surplants the Phenician in all his 
factories, all the companies in the East : soon will the Eoman 
come, and do likewise in the West. Alexander did far more 
against Tyre than Salmanasar or Nebuchodonosor had done. Not 
content with crushing her, he took care that she never should 
revive ; for he founded Alexandria as her substitute, and clianged 
forever the track of the. commerce of the world. There remained 
Carthage — the great Carthage, and her mighty empire — mighty 
in a far different degree than Phenicia's had been. Eome annihi- 
lated it. Then occurred that which has no parallel in history — an 
entire civilization perished at one blow — vanished, like a falling 



* See Arnold, vol. ill., 887. 



82 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

star. The " Periplus " of Haimo, a few coins, a score of lines in 
Plautiis, and, lo, all that remains of tlie Carthaginian world ! 

"Many generations must needs pass away before the struggle 
between the two races could be rencM'ed ; and the Arabs, that 
formidable rear-guard of the Semitic world, dashed forth from 
their deserts. The contiict between the two races then became 
the conllict of two religions. Fortunate was it that those dar- 
ing Saracenic cavaliers encountered in the East the impregnable 
walls of Constantinople, in the "West the chivalrous valor of 
Charles Martel and the sword of the Cid. The crusades were 
the natural reprisals for the Arab invasions, and form the last 
epoch of that great struggle between the two principal families 
of the human race." 

It is difficult, amid the glimmering light supplied by the allu- 
sions oi the classical writers, to gain a full idea of the character 
and institution of Eome's great rival. But we can perceive 
how inferior Carthage was to her competitor in military resources, 
and how far less titted than Eome she was to become the founder 
of centralized and centralizing dominion, that should endure for 
centuries, and fuse into imperial unity the narrow nationalities 
of the ancient races, that dwelt around and near the shores of 
the Mediterranean Sea. 

Carthage was originally neither the most ancient nor the most 
powerful of the numerous colonies which the Phenicians planted 
on the coast of Northern Africa. But her advantageous posi- 
tion, the excellence of her constitution (of which, though ill 
informed as to its details, we know that it commanded the ad- 
miration of Aristotle), and the commercial and political energy of 
her citizens, gave her the ascendency over Hippo, Utica, Leptis, 
and her other sister Phenician cities in those regions ; and she 
finally reduced them to a condition of dependency, similar to 
that which the subject allies of Athens occupied relatively to 
that once imperial city. When Tyre and Sidon, and the other 
cities of Phenicia itself sank from independent republics into 
mere vassal states of the great Asiatic monarchies, and obeyed 
by turns a Babylonian, a Persian, and a Macedonian master, their 
power and their traffic rapidly declined, and Carthage succeeded 
to the important maritime and commercial character which they 
had previously maintained. The Carthaginians did not seek to 
compete with the Greeks on the northeastern shores of the Med- 
iterranean, or in the three inland seas which are connected with 
it ; but they maintained an active intercourse with the Pheni- 
cians, and through them with Lower and Central Asia : and they, 
and they alone, after the decline and fall of Tyre, navigated the 
waters of the Atlantic. They had the monopoly of all the com- 
merce of the world that was carried on beyond the Straits of 
Gibraltar. We have yet extant (.in a Greek translation) the narra- 
tive of the voyage of Hanno, one of their admirals, along the 



BATTLE OF TEE METATJBUS. 83 

■western coast of Africa as far as Sierra Leone ; and in the Latin 
poem of Festus Avienus, frequent references are made to the rec- 
ords of tLe voy^igfcs of another celebrated Carthaginian admiral, 
Himilco, wlio had explored the northwestern coast of Europe. 
Our own islands are mentioned by Himilco as the lands of the 
Hiberni and the Albioni. It is indeed certain that the Cartha- 
ginians frequented the Cornish coast (as the Phenicians had 
done before them ) for the purpose of procuring tin ; and there is 
every reason to believe that they sailed os far as the coasts of 
the Baltic for amber. When it is remembered that the mari- 
ner's compass was unknown in those ages, the boldness and skill 
of the seamen of Carthage, and the enterprise of her merchants, 
may be paralleled with any achievements that the history of 
modern navigation and commerce can produce. 

In their Atlantic voyages along the African shores, the Cartha- 
ginians followed the double object of traffic and colonization. 
The numerous settlements that were planted by them along the 
coast from Morocco to Senegal provided for the needy members 
of the constantly increasing population of a great commercial 
capital, and also strengthened the influence which Carthage ex- 
ercised among the tribes of the African coast. Besides her fleets, 
her caravans gave her a large and lucrative trade with the na- 
tive Africans ; nor must we limit our belief of the extent of the 
Carthaginian trade with the tribes of Central and Western Af- 
rica by the narrowness of the commercial intercourse which civil- 
ized nations of modern times have been able to create in those 
regions. 

Although essentially a mercantile and. seafaring people, the Car- 
thaginians by no means neglected agriculture. On the contrary, 
the whole of their territory was cultivated like a garden. The fer- 
tility of the soil repaid the skill and toil bestowed on it; and every 
invader, from Agathocles to Scipio iEmilianus, was struck with ad- 
miration at the rich pasture lands caretully irrigated, the abundant 
harvests, the luxuriant vineyards, the plantations of fig and olive 
trees, the thriving villages, the populous towns, and the splendid 
villas of the wealthy Carthaginians, through which his march lay, 
as long as he was on Carthaginian ground. 

Although the Carthaginians abandoned .3Egffian and the Pontus 
to the Greek, they were by no means disposed to relinquish to 
those rivals the commerce and the dominion of the coasts of the 
Mediterx'anean westward of Italy. For centuries the Carthaginians 
strove to make themselves masters of the islands that lie between 
Italy and Spain. They acquired the Balearic Islands, where the 
principal harbor, Port Mahon, stills bears the name of a Cartha- 
ginian admiraL They succeeded in reducing the greater part of 
Sardinia; but Sicily could never be brought into their jDOwer. 
They repeatedly invaded that island, and nearly overran it: .but 
the resistance which was opposed to them by the Syracusans 



84 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

under Gelon, Dionysins, Timoleon, and Agathocles, preserved the 
island from becoming Punic, though many of its cities remained 
under the Carthaginian rule until Rome finally settled the ques- 
tion to whom Sicily was to belong by conquering it for herself. 

With so many elements of success, with almost unbounded 
wealth, with commercial and maritime activity, with a fertile ter- 
ritory, with a capital city of almost impregnable strength, with a 
constitution that insured for centuries the blessing of social order, 
with an aristocracy singularly fertile in men of the highest genius, , 
Carthage yet failed signally and calamitously in her contest for' 
power with Eome. One of the immediate causes of this may seem 
to have been the want of firmness among her citizens, which made 
them terminate the first Punic war by begging peace, sooner than 
endure any longer the hardships and burdens caused by a state of 
warfare, although their antagonist had suffered far more severely 
than themselves. Another cause was the spirit of faction among 
their leading men, which prevented Hannibal in the second war 
from being properly re-enforced and supported. But there were 
also more general causes why Carthage proved inferior to Eome, 
These were her position relatively to the mass of the inhabitants 
of the country which she ruled, and her habit of trusting to mer- 
cenary armies in her wars. 

Our clearest information as to the different races of men in and 
about Carthage is derived from Diodorus Siculus.* That historian 
enumerates four different races : first, he mentions the Phenicians 
who dwelt in Carthage; next, he speaks of the Liby-Phenicians: 
these, he tells us, dwelt in many of the maritime cities, and were 
connected by intermarriages with the Phenicians, which was the 
cause of their compound name; thirdly, he mentions the Libyans, 
the bulk and the most ancient part of the population, hating the 
Carthaginians intensely on account of the oppressiveness of their 
'domination; lastly, he names the Numidians, the nomade tribes of 
the frontier. 

It is evident, from this description, that the native Libyans 
were a subject -class, without franchise or political rights; and, 
accordingly, we find no instance specified m history of a Libyan 
holding political office or military command. The half-castes, the 
Liby-Phenicians, seem to have been sometimes sent out as colon- 
ists;! ^iit it may be inferred, from what Diodorus says of their 
residence, that they had not the right of the citizenship of Car- 
thage; and only a single solitary case occurs of one of this race 
being intrusted with authority, and that, too, not emanating fromi 
the home government. This is the instance of the officer sent by 
Hannibal to Sicily after the fall of Syracuse, whom Polybius| caUs 
Myttinus the Libyan, but whom, from the fuller account in Livy, 
we find to have been a Liby-Phenician ;§ and it is expressly men- 

* Vol. il,, p. 447, Wesseling's ed t See tlie " Periplus " of Hanno. 

t Lib. ix„ 22. § Lib. XXV,, 40, 



J5attl:ej of the METAVRVS. 8S 

tioned what indignation was felt by the Carthaginian commanders 
in the island that this half-caste should control their operations. 

With respect to the composition of their armies, it is observable 
that, though thirsting for extended empire, and though some of 
her leading men became generals of the highest order, the Car- 
thaginians, as a people, were any thing but personally warlike. 
As long as they could hire mercenaries to fight for them, they had 
little appetite for the irksome training and the loss of valuable 
time which military service would have entailed on themselves. 

As Michelet remarks, " The life of an industrious merchant, of 
a Carthaginian, was too precious to be risked, as long as it was 
possible to substitute advantageously for it that of a barbarian 
from Spain or Gaul, Carthage knew, and could tell to a drachma, 
what the life of a man of each nation came to. A Greek was worth 
more than a Campanian, a Campanian worth more than a Gaul or 
a Spaniard. When once this tariff of blood was correctly made 
out, Carthage began a war as a mercantile speculation. She tried 
to make conquests in the hope of getting new mines to work, or 
to open fresh markets for her exports. In one venture she could 
afford to spend fifty thousand mercenaries, in another rather more. 
If the returns were good, there was no regret felt for the capital 
that had been sunk in the investment; more money got more men, 
and all went on well."* 

Armies composed of foreign mercenaries have in all ages been 
as formidable to their employers as to the enemy against whom they 
were directed. We know of one occasion (between the first and 
second Punic wars') when Carthage was brought to the very brink 
of destruction by revolt of her foreign troops. Other mutinies of 
the same kind must from time to time have occurred. Probably 
one of these was the cause of the comparative weakness of Carthage 
at the time of the Athenian expedition against Syracuse, so differ- 
ent from the energy with which she attacked Gelon half a century 
earlier, and Dionysius half a century later. And even when we 
consider her armies with reference only to their efficiency in war- 
fare, we perceive at once the inferiority of such bands of condoUeri, 
brought together without any common bond of origin, tactics, or 
cause, to the legions of Home, which, at the time of the Punic wars, 
were raised from the very flower of a hardy agricultural population, 
trained in the strictest discipline, habituated to victory, and ani- 
mated by the most resolute patriotism. And this shows, also,' 
the transcendency of the genius of Hannibal, which could 
form such discordant materials into a compact organized force, 
and inspire them with the spirit of patient discipline and 
loyalty to their chief, so that they were true to him in 
his adverse as well as his prosperous fortunes ; and throughout 
the checkered series of his campaigns, no panic route ever 

* *' Histoire Eomaine," vol. ii., p. 40, 



86 DECISIVE BATTLER 

disgraced a division imiler his eciiniianil. no mv.tiny, or even 
attempt at mntiny, ^vasever known in Ins camp ; and tinally, after 
fifteen years of Italian warfare, his men followed their old haderto 
Zama, "with no fear mil little hope/"* and tliere, on that disastrous 
field, stoon firniaronnd h.im, his Old Unard, till Soipios Kumidian 
allies eame up on their Hank, when at last, surrounded and over- 
powered, the veteran battalions sealed their devotion to theirgeneral 
by their Mood ! 

"But if Hannibal's genius may be likt ned to the Homeric god, 
"who, in his hatred to the Trojtms, rises from the deep to rally the 
fainting Greeks and to lead them against the enemy, so the calm 
courage with which Hector met his more than human adversary in 
Lis country's cause is no unworthy image of the \inyielding magna- 
nimity displayed by the aristocracy of Ixouie. As Hannibal utterly 
eclipses Carthage, so, on the contrary, Fabius, ]Marcellus, Claudius, 
Nero, evenScipio himself, are nothing when compared to the spirit, 
and wisdom, and power of Eome. The senate, which voted its 
thanks to its political enemy, Varro, after his disastrous defeat, 'be- 
cause he had not despaired of the commonwealth,' and which 
disdained either to solicit, or to reprove, or to threaten, or in any 
way to notice the twelve colonies which had refused their accus- 
tomed sxipplies of men for the army, is far more to be honored thjin 
the conquerer of Zama. This we should the more carefully bear 
in mind, because our tendency is to admire individual greatness 
far more than national ; and, as no single Eomun will bear com- 
parison to Hannibal, we are apt to murmur at the event of the 
contest, and to think that the victory was awarded to the least 
worth.y of the combatants. On the contrary, never was the wisdom 
of God's providence more manifest than in the issue of the struggle 
between l\ome and Carthage. It was clearly for the good of man- 
kind that Hannibal should be conquered ; his triumph would have 
stopped the progress of the worM ; for great men can only act per- 
manently by forming great nations ; and no one man, even though 
it were Hannibal himself, can in one generation efi:ect sxTch a work. 
Rut where the nation has been merely enkindled for a while by a 
great man's spirit, the light passes away with him who communi- 
cated it ; and the nation, when he is gone, is like a dead body, to 
which magic power had for a moment given unnatural life : when 
the charm has ceased, the bodv is cold and stiff as before. He who 
grieves over the battle of Zama should carry on his thoughts to a 
period thirty years later, when Hannibal must, in the course of 
nature, have been dead, and consider how^ the isolated Phenician 
city of Carthage was fitted to receive and to consolidate the civili- 
zation of Greece, or by its laws and institutions" to bind together 
barbarians of every race and language into an organized empire, 

* " We advanced to Waterloo as the Greeks did to Thermopyljp : all of us 
without tear, and most ot us without hop^r—JSpcech 0/ Gi^nenxlFoy^ 



:battle of the metaurus. si 

and prepare them for becoming, wlien that empire was dissolved, 
tixe free members of the commonwealth of Christian Europe."* 

It was in tbe spring of 207 b. c. that Hasdrubal, after skil- 
fully disentangling himself and from the Koman forces in Spain, 
and after a march conducted with great judgment and little loss 
through the interior of Gaul and the passes of the Alps, appeared 
in the country that now is the north of Lombardy at the head 
of troops which he had partly brought out of Spain and partly 
levied among the Gauls and Ligurians on his way. At this time 
Hannibal, with his unconquered and seemingly unconquerable 
army, had been eight years in Italy, executing with strenuous 
ferocity the vow of hatred to Eome which had been sworn by him 
while yet a child at the bidding of his father Hamilcar ; who, as 
he boasted, had trained up his three sons, Hannibal, Hasdrubal, 
and Mago, like three lion's whelps, to prey upon the Romans. 
But Haunibal's latter campaigns had not been signalized by any 
such great victories as marked the first years of his invasion of 
Italy. The stern spirit of Itoman resolution, ever highest in 
disaster and danger, had neither bent nor despaired beneath the 
merciless blows which " the dire African " dealt her in rapid succes- 
sion at Trebia, at Thrasymene, and at Cannae. Her population 
was thinned by repeated slaughter in the field, poverty and actual 
scarcity ground down the survivors, through the fearful ravages 
which Hannibal's cavalry spread through their corn-fields, their 
pasture-lands, and their vine-yards; many of her allies went over 
to the invader's side; and new clouds of foreign war threatened her 
from Macedonia and Gaul. But liome receded not. liich and poor 
among her citizens vied with each other in devotion to their 
country. The wealthy placed their stores, and all placed their lives 
at the state's disposal. And though Hannibal could not be driven 
out of Italy, though every year brought its sufferings and sacri- 
fices, Eome felt that her constancy had not been exerted in vain. 
If she was weakened by the continual strife, so was Hannibal also ; 
and it was clear that the unaided resources of his army were un- 
equal to the task of her destruction. The single deer-hound could 
not pull down the quarry which he had so furiously assailed. 
Eome not only stood fiercely at bay, but had pressed back and 
gored her antagonist, that still, however, watched her in act to 
spring. She was weary, and bleeding at every pore ; and there 
seemed to be little hope of her escape, if the other hound of Hamil- 
car's race should come up in time to aid his brother in the death- 
grapple. 

Hasdrubal had commanded the Carthaginian armies in Spain 



* Arnold, vol. 111., p. 61. The ahove is one of tlie numerous bursts of elo- 
quence tliat adorn Arnold's last volume, and cause such deep regret tliat 
tliat volume; sliould have heen the last, and Its great and good, author have 
been cut oil with his work tUua Incomplete, 



S8 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

for some time with varying but ger-erally unfavorable fortune. 
He had not the full authority over the Punic forces in that coun- 
try which his brother and his father had previously exercised. 
The faction at Carthage, which was at feud with his family, suc- 
ceeded in fettering and interfering with his power, and other 
generals were from time to time sent into Spain, whose errors and 
misconduct caused the reverses that Hasdrubal met with. This 
is expressly attested by the Greek historian Polbius, whowas the 
intimate friend of the younger Africanus, and drew his informa- 
tion respecting the second Punic war from the best possible 
authorities. Livy gives a long narrative of campaigns between the 
Koman commanders in Spain and Hasdrubal, which is so palpably 
deformed by fictions and exaggerations as to be hardly deserving 
of attention. * 

It is clear that, in the year 208 b. c, at least, Hasdrubal out- 
maneuvered Publius Sci^Dio, who held the command of the Koman 
forces in Spain, and whose object was to prevent him from passing 
the Pyrenees and marching upon Italy. Scipio expected that Has- 
drubal would attempt the nearest route along the coast of the 
Mediterranean, and he therefore carefully fortified and guarded 
the passes of the eastern Pyrenees. But Hasdrubal passed these 
mountains near their western extremity; and then, with a con- 
siderable force of Spanish infantry, with a small number of African 
troops, with some elephants and much treasure, he marched, not 
directly toward the coast of the Mediterranean, but in a northeastern 
line toward the center of Gaul. He halted for the winter in 
the territory of the Arverni, the modern Auvergne, and conciliated 
or purchased the good will of the Gauls in that region so far that 
he not only found friendly winter quarters among them, but great 
numbers of them enlisted under him; and on the approach of 
spring, marched with him to invade Italy. 

By thus entering Gaul at the southwest, and avoiding its south- 
ern maritime districts, Hasdrubal kept the Komans in complete 
ignorance of his precise operations and movements in that coun- 
try; all that they knew was that Hasdrubal had bafiled Scipio's 
attempts to detain him in Spain; that he had crossed the Pyrenees 
with soldiers, elephants, and money , and that he was raising fresh 
forces among the Gauls. The spring was sure to bring him into 
Italy, and then would come the real tempest of the war, when from 
the north and from the south the two Carthaginian armies, each 
under a son of the Thunderbolt, f were to gather together around 
the seven hills of Home. 

In this emergency the ;&,omans looked among themselves earn- 

* See the excellent criticisms of Sh Walter Releigh on tills, m his " History 
of the World,'' hook v., chap. lil.. sec. il. 

t Hamilcar was surnamecl Barca, which means the Thunderholt. Sultan 
Bajazet had the similar surname of Yilderim, 



:battle of Tim metaurxis. 89 

estly and anxiously for leaders fit to meet tlie perils of the coining 
campaign. 

The senate recommended the people to elect, as one of their 
consuls, Caius Claudius Nero, a patrician of one of the families of 
the great Claudian house, Nero had served during the preceding 
years of the war both against Hannibal in Italy and against Has- 
drubal in Spain; but it is remarkable that the histories which we 
possess record no successes as having been achieved by him either 
before or after his great campaign of the Metaurus. It proves 
much for the sagacity of the leading men of the senate that they 
recognized in Nero the energy and spirit which were required at 
this crisis, and it is equally creditable to the patriotism of the peo- 
ple that they followed the advice of the senate by electing a general 
who had no showy exploits to recommend him to their choice. 

It was a matter of greater difficulty to find a second consul; the 
laws required that one consul should be a plebeian; and the ple- 
beian nobility had been fearfully thinned by the events of the war. 
While the senators anxiously deliberated among themselves what 
fit colleague for Nero could bo nominated at the coming comitia, 
and sorrowfully recalled the names of Marcellus, Gracchus, and 
other plebeian generals who were no more, one taciturn and moody 
old man sat in sullen apathy among the conscript fathers. This 
was Marcus Livius, who had been consul in the year before the 
beginning of this war, and had then gained a victory over the 
Illyrians. After his consulship he had been impeached before the 
people on a charge of peculation and unfair division of the spoils 
among his soldiers; the verdict was unjustly given against him, 
and the sense of this wrong, and of the indignity thus put upon 
him, had rankled unceasingly in the bosom of Livius, so that for 
eight years after his trial he had lived in seclusion in his country 
seat, taking no part in any affairs of state. Latterly the census had 
compelled him to come to Home and resume his place in the senate, 
where he used to sit gloomily apart, giving only a silent vote. 
At last an unjust accusation against one of his near kinsmen made 
him break silence, and he harangued the house in words of weight 
and sense, which drew attention to him, and taught the senators 
that a strong spirit dwelt beneath that unimposing exterior. Now, 
while they were debating on what noble of a plebeian house was 
fit to assume the perilous honors of the consulate, some of the 
elder of them looked on Marcus Livius, and remembered that in 
the very last triumph which had been celebrated in the streets of 
Eome, this grim old man had sat in the car of victory, and that he 
had offered the last thanksgiving sacrifice for the success of the 
Koman arms which had bled before Capitoline Jove. There had 
been no triumphs since Hannibal came into Italy. The Illyrian 
campaign of Livius was the last that had been so honored; perhaps 
it might be destined for him now to renew the long-interrupted 
series. The senators resolved that Livius should be put in nomi- 



90 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

nation as consul •witli Nero; tlie people were willing to elect him* 
the only opposition came from himself. He tanntod them with 
their inconsistency in honoring the man whom they had convicted 
of a base crime. "If I am innocent, "said he, '• why did you place 
such a stain on me ? If I am guilt}', why am I more tit fur a second 
consulship than I was for my lirst one?*' The other senators re- 
monstrated with him, urging the example of the great Camillus, 
who, after an nnpist condemnation on a similar charge, both 
served and saved his country. At last Livius ceased to object; and 
Caius Claudius Nero and Marcus Livius were chosen consuls of 
Home. 

A quarrel had long existed between the two consuls, and the 
senators strove to eifect a reconciliation between them before the 
campaign. Here again Livius for a long time obstinately resisted 
the wish of his fellow-senators. He said it was best for the state 
that he and Nero should continiie to hate one another. Each 
would do his duty better when he loiew that he v>-as watched by an 
enemy in the person of his own colleague. At last tiie entreaties 
of the s.^nate prevailed, and Livius consented to forego the 
feud, and to co-operate with Nero in preparing' for the coming 
struggle. 

As soon as the winter snows were thawed, Has drubal commenced 
his march from Auvergne to the Alps. He experienced none of 
the difficulties which his brother had met with from the mountain 
tribes. Hannibal's army had been the tirst body of regular troops 
that had ever traversed their regions; and, as wild animals assail 
a traveler, the natives rose against it instinc^ively, in imagined 
defense of their own habitations which they supposed to be the 
objects of Carthaginian ambition. But the fame of the war, with 
which Italy had now been convulsed for twelve years, had pene- 
trated into the Alpine passes, and the mountaineers now under- 
stood that a mighty city southward of the Alps was to be attacked 
by the troops whom they saw marching among them. They now 
not only opposed no resistance to the passage of Hasdrubal, but 
many of them, out of the love of enterprise and plunder, or allured 
by the high pay that he offered, took service with him; and thus 
he advanced upon Italy with an army that gathered strength at 
every league. It is said, also, that some of the most important 
engineering works which Hannibal had constructed were found 
by Hasdrubal still in existence, and materially favored the speed 
of his advance. He thus emerged into Italy from the Alpine val- 
leys much sooner than had been anticipated. Many warriors of 
the Ligurian tribes joined him; and, crossing the Eiver Po, he 
marched down its southern bank to the city of Placentia, whica Lj 
wished to secure as a base for his future operations. Placentia 
resisted him as bravely as it had resisted H.mnibal twelve years 
before, and for some time Hasdrubal waa occupied with a fruitless* 
siege before its walla. 



BATTLE OF THE METAXIBm. 91 

Six armies were levied for the defense of Italy when the long 
dreaded approach of Husdrubul was announced. Seventy thousand 
Romans served in the fifteen legions, of which, with an equal 
number of Italian allies, those armies and garrisons were com- 
posed. Upward of thirty thousand more Komans were serving in 
Sicily, Sardinia, and Spain. The whole number of Eoman citizens 
of an age fit for military duty scarcely exceeded . a hundred and 
thirty thousand. The census t.iken before the commencement 
of the war had shown a total of two hundred and seventy thousand,- 
which had been diminished by more than half during twelve years.! 
These numbers are fearfully emphatic of the extremity to which 
Home was reduced, niid of her gigantic efibrts in that great agony 
of her fat:;. Not merely men, but money and military stores, were 
drained to the utmost; and if the armies of that year should be 
swept off by a repetition of the slaughters of Thrasymene and 
Cannao, all felt that Rome would cease to exist. Even if the cam- 
paign wore to be marked by no decisive success on eitlier side, 
her ruin seemed certain. In South Italy, Hannibal had either de- 
tached Rome's allies from her, or had impoverished them by the 
ravages of his army. If Kasdrubal could have done the same in 
Upper Italy; if Etruria, Umbria, and Northern Latium hud either 
revolted or been laid waste, Rome must have sunk beneath sheer 
starvation, for the hostile or desolated territory would have yielded 
no supplies of corn for her population, and money to purchase it 
from abroad there was none. Instant victory was a matter of life 
or death. Three of her six armies were ordered to the north, but 
the first of these was required to overawe the disaffected Etruscans. 
The second army of the north was pushed forward, under Porcius, 
the praetor, to meet and keep in check the advanced troops of Has- 
drubal ; while the third, the grand army of the north, which was 
to be under the immediate command of the consul Livius, who 
had the chief command in all North Italy, advanced more slowly 
in its support. There were similarly three armies in the south, 
under the orders of the other consul, Claudius Nero. 

The lot had decided that Livius was to be opposed to Hasdru- 
bal, and that Nero should face Hannibal. And "when all was 
ordered as themselves thought best, the two consuls went forth of 
the city, each his several way. The people of Rome were now 
quite otherwise affected than they had been when L. iEmilius 
Paulus and C. TerrentiusVarro were sent against Hannibal. They 
did no longer take upon them to direct their generals, or bid them 
dispatch and win the victory betimes, but rather tlaey stood in 
fear lest all diligence, wisdom, and valor should prove too little; 
for since few years had passed wherein some one of their generals 
had not been slain, and since it was manifest that, if either of 
these present consuls were defeated, or put to the worst, the two 
Carthaginians would forthwith join, and make short work with 
the other, it seemed a greater happiness than could be expected 



92 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

that each of them should return home Tictor, and come off with 
honor from such mighty opposition as he was like to tind. "With 
extreme difficulty had Eome held iip her head ever since the bat- 
tle of Canna^; though it were so, that Hannibal alone, with little 
help from Carthage, had continued the vrar in Italy. But there 
was now arrived another son of Amilear, and one that, in his pres- 
ent expedition, had seemed a man- of more sufficiency than Han- 
nibal himself, for whereas, in that long and dangerous march 
thorow barborous nations, over great rivers, and mountains that 
were thought unpassable, Hannibal had lost a great part of his 
army, this Asdrubal, in the same places, had multiplied his num- 
bers, and gathering the people that he found in the way, descended 
from the Alps like a rowling snow-ball, far greater than he 
came over the Pyrenees at his first setting out of Spain. These 
considerations and the like, of which fear presented many unto 
them, caused the people of Eome to wait upon their consuls out 
of the town, like a pensive trtiin of mourners, thinking upon Mar- 
cellus and Crispinus, upon whom, in the like sort, they had given 
attendance the last year, but saw neither of them return alive from 
a less dangerous war. Particularly old Q. Fabius gave his accus- 
tomed advice to M. Livius, that he should abstain from giving or 
taking battle until he well understood the enemies condition. 
But the consul made him a froward answer, and said that he 
would tight the very first day, for that he thought it long till he 
should either recover his honor by victory, or, by seeing the over- 
throw of his own unjust citizens, satisfied himself with the joy of 
a great though not an honest revenge. But his meaning was bet- 
ter than his words."* 

Hannibal at this period occnpied with his veteran but much 
rediiced forces the extreme south of Italy. It had not been expected 
either by friend or foe that Hasdrubal would eflect his passage 
of the Alps so early in the year as actually occirrreii. And even 
when Hannibal learned that his brother was in Italy, and had ad- 
vanced as far as Placentia, he was obliged to pause for fiirther in- 
telligence before he himself commenced active operations, as he 
could not tell whether his brother might not be invited into Etru- 
ria, to aid the party there that was disafiected to Eome, or whether 
he would march down by the Adriatic Sea. Hannibal led his 
troops out of their winter quarters in Bruttium and marched 
northward as far as Canusiuiu. Nero had his headquarters near 
Yenusia, with an army which he had increased to forty thousand foot 
and two thousand five hundred horse, by incorporating under his 
own command some of the legions which had been intended to 
act under other generals in the south. There was another Eoman 
army, twenty thousand strong, south of Hannibal, at Tarentum. 
The strength of that city seciired this Eoman force from any at- 

* Sir Walter Ralelgli. 



BA TTLE OF THE MET A UR U8. 93 

tack by Hannibal, and it was a serious matter to march northward 
and leave it in Lis rear, free to act against all his depots and allies 
in tije friendly part of Italy, which for the two or three last cam- 
paigns Lad served him for a base of Lis operations. Moreover, 
Nero's army was so strong that Hannibal could not concentrate 
trcopft enough to assume the offensive against it without weaken- 
ing his garrisons, and relinquishing, at least for a time, his grasp 
upon the southern provinces. To do this befoie he was certainly 
informed of his brother's operations would have been a useless 
sacrifice, as Nero could retreat before him upon the other Eoman 
armies near the capital, and Hannibal knew by experience that a 
mere advance of his army upon the walls of Home would have no 
effect on the fortunes of the war. In the hope, probably, of in- 
ducing Nero to follow him, and of gaining an opportunity of out- 
maneuvering the Eoman consul and attacking him on his march, 
Hannibal moved into Lucania, and then back into Apulia ; he 
again marched down into Bruttium, and strengthened his ,army 
by a levy of recruits in that district. Nero followed him, but gave 
him no chance of assailing him at a disadvantage. Some partial 
encounters seem to have taken place; but the consul could not 
prevent Hannibal's junction with his Bruttian levies, nor could 
Hannibal gain an opportunity of surprising and crushing the con- 
eul. * Hannibal returned to his form er head-quarters at Canusium, 
and halted there in expectation of further tidings of his brother's 
movements. Nero also resumed his former position in observa- 
tion of the Carthaginian army. 

Meanwhile, Hasdrubal had raised the siege of Placentia, and 
was advancing toward Ariminum on the Adriatic, and driving 
before him the Koman army under Porcius. Nor when the con- 
sul Livius had come up, and united the second and third armies 
of the north, could he make head against the invaders. The 
Komans still fell back before Hasdrubal, beyond Ariminum, beyond 

* The annalists whom Llvy copied spoke of Nero'S gaining repeated 
victories over Hannibal, and killing and taking his men by tens ot thou- 
sands. The falsehood of all this is self-evident. If Nero could thus 
always beat Hannibal, the Romans would not have been in such an agony 
of dread about Hasdrubal as all writers describe. Indeed, we have the 
express testimony of Poly bins that the statements which we read In Livy 
of Marcellus, Nero and others gaining victories over Hannibal in Italy, 
must be all fabrications of Eoman vanity. Polybius states, lib. xv., sec. 
16. that Hannibal was never defeated before the battle of Zama; and In 
another passage, book ix., chap. 3, he mentions that after the defeats wliich 
Hannibal inflicted on the Romans in the early years of the war, they no 
lOEger dared face his army in a pitched battle on a fair field, and yet they 
resolutely maintained the war He rightly explains this by referring to 
the superiority of Hannibal's cavalry, the arm which gained him all his 
victories. By keeping within fovtifled lines, or close to the sides of the 
mountains when Hannibal approached them, the Romans rendered his cav- 
alry ineffective ; and a glance at the geography of Italy will show bow an 
army can traverse the greater part of ViaX country without venturing far 
Irom the high grounds. 



94 DWISn^E BATTLES. 

the Metanrns, and as far as the little town of Sena, to the sontli- 
east of that river. Hasdrubal was not nnmindiul of the necessity 
of acting in concert with his brother. He sent messengers to 
Hannibal to announce his own line of march, and to propose that 
they should unite their armies in South Umbria, and then wheel 
rounei against Eome. Those messengers traversed the greater part 
of Italy in safety, but, when close to the object of their mission, 
were captured by a Homan detachment, and Hasdrubal's letter, 
detailing his whole pLm of the campaign, was laid, not in his 
brother's hands, but in those of the commander of the Eoman 
armies of the south. Nero saw at once the full importance of the 
crisis. The two sons of Hamilcar were now within two hundred 
miles of each other, and if Eome were to be saved, the brothers 
mubt never meet alive. Nero instantly ordered seven thousand 
picked men, a thousand being cavalry, to hold themselves in readi- 
ness for a secret expedition against one of Hannibal's garrisons, 
and as soon as night had set in, he hurried forward on his bold 
enterprise ; but he quickly left the southern road toward Lucania, 
and, wheeling round, pressing northward with the utmost rapidity 
toward Picenum. He had, during tlie preceding afternoon, sent 
messengers to Eome, who were to lay Hasdrubal's letters before 
the senate. There was a law, forbidding a consul to make war or 
march his army beyond the limits of the province assigned to him; 
but in such an emergency, Nero did not wait for the permission of 
the senate to execute his project, but informed them that he was 
already on his march to join Livius against Hasdrubal. He ad- 
vised them to send the two legions which formed the home garri- 
son on to Narnia, so as to defend that pass of the Flaminian road 
against Hasdrubal, in case he should march upon Eome before 
the consular armies could attack him. They were to supply the 
place of these two legions at Eome by a levy en masse in the city 
and by ordering up the reserve legion from Capua. These were nis 
communications to the senate. He also sent horsemen forward 
along his line of march, with orders to the local authorities to bring 
stores of provisions and refreshments of every kind to the road- 
side, and to have relays of carriages ready for the conveyance of the 
wearied soldiers. *Such were the precautions which he took for 
accelerating his march ; and when he had advanced some little 
distance from his camp, he brietly informed his soldiers of the real 
object of their expedition. He told them that never was there a 
design more seemingly audacious and more really safe. He said 
he was leading them to a certain victory, for his colleague had an 
army large enough to balance the enemy already, so that iheir 
swords would decisively turn the scale. The very rumor that a 
fresh consul and a fresh army had com ujj, when heard on the 
battle-field (and he would take care that they should not be heard 
of before they were seen and felt\ wouki settle the business. 
They would have all the credit o^the victory, and of having dealt 



BA TTLE OF THE MET A UB US. 95 

the final decisive blow. lie appealed to the enthusiastic reception 
which they already met with on their line of march as a proof and 
an omen of their good fortune.* And, indeed, their whole path 
was amid the vows, and prayers, and praises of their countrymen. 
The entire population of the districts through which they passed 
.■flocked to the roadside to see and bless the deliverers of their 
country. Food, drink, anJi refreshments of every kind wera 
eagerly pressed on their acceptance. Each peasant thought a 
favor was conferred on him if one of Nero's chosen band would 
accept aught at Lis hands. Ihe soldiers caught the full spirit of 
their leader. Night and day they marched forward, taking their 
hurried meals in the ranks, and resting by relays in the wagons 
which the zeal of the country people provided, and which followed 
in the rear of the column. 

Meanwhile, at Kome, the news of Nero's expedition had- caused 
the greatest excitement and alarm. All men felt the full audacity 
of the enterprise, but hesitated what epithet to apply to it. It 
was evident that Nero's conduct would be judged of by the event, 
that most unfair criterion, as the Koman historian truly terms it.f 
People reasoned on the perilous state in which Nero had left the 
rest of his army, without a general, and deprived of the core of its 
strength, in the vicinity of the terrible Hannibal. They specu- 
lated on how long it would take Hannibal to pursue and overtake 
Nero himself, and his expeditionary force. They talked over the 
former disasters of the war, and the fall of both the consuls of the 
last year. All the calamities had come on them while they had 
only one Carthaginian general and army to deal with in Italy. 
Now they had two Punic wars at a time. They had two Carthagi- 
nian armies, they had almost two Hannibals in Italy. Hasdrubal 
was sprung from the same father; trained up in the same hostility 
to Rome; equally practiced in battle against their legions; and, if 
the comparative speed and success with which he had crossed the 
Alps was a fair test, he was even a better general than his brother. 
With fear for their interpreter of every rumor, they exaggerated 
the strength of their enemy's forces in every quarter, and criticised 
and distrusted their own. 

Fortunately for Rome, while she was thus a prey to terror and 
anxiety, her consul's nerves were stout and strong, and he resolute- 
ly urged on his march toward Sena, where his colleague Livius 
and the praetor Porcius were encamped, Hasdrubal's army being 
in position about half a mile to their north. Nero had sent couriers 
forward to apprise his colleague of his project and of his ap- 
proach; and by the advice of Livius, Nero so timed his final march 
as to reach the camp at Sena by night. According to a. previous 

* Llvy, li]3. xxvll,, c. 45. 

T " Aflparebat (quo nlMl inlquius est) ex eventu famam hatolturum."-. 
LiVY, lib. xxvii., c. 44. 



96 DECISIV:t: BATTLES. 

arrangement, Nero's men -were received silently into tlie tents of 
their comrades, eucli according to liis rank. By these means there 
vms no enlargement of the camp that conld betray to Hasdrubal the 
accession of force which the Romans had received. This was con- 
siderable, as Nero's numbers had been increased on the march by 
the volunteers, who otiered themselves in crowds, and from whom 
he selected the most promisiDg men, and especially the veterans 
of former campaigns. A council of war was held on the morning 
after his arrival, in which some advised that time should be given 
for Nero's men to refresh themselves after the fatigue of such a 
march. But Nero vehemently opposed all delay. " The officer," 
said he, "who is for giving time to my menrhere to rest themselves, 
is for giving time to Hannibal to attack my men, whom I have left 
in the camp in Apulia. He is for giving time to Hannibal and 
Hasdrubal to discover my march, and to maneuver for a junction 
with each other in Cisalpine Gaul at their leisure. We must light 
instantly, while both the foe here and the foe in the south are ignor- 
ant of olir movements. We must destroy this Hasdrubal, and I 
must be back in Apulia before Hannibal awakes from his torpor."* 
Nero's advice prevailed. It was resolved to fight directly, and be- 
fore the consul and prt^tor left the tent of Livius, the red ensign, 
which was the signal to prepare for immediate action, was hoisted, 
and the Eomansibrthwith drew up in battle array outside the camp. 

Hasdrubal had been anxious to bring Livius and Porcius to bat- 
tle, though he had not judged it expedient to attack them in their 
lines. And now, on hearing that the Eomans otfered battle, h^ 
also drew up his men and advanced toward thorn. No spy or de- 
serter had informed him of Nero's arrival, nor had he receiyed any 
direct information that he had more than his old enemies to deal 
with. But as he rode forward to reconnoiter the Eoman line, ha 
fliought that their numbers seemed to have increased, and that 
the ainior of some of them was unusually dull and stained. He 
noticed, also, that the horses of some of the cavalry appeared to be 
rough and out of condition, as if they had just come from a suc- 
cession of forced marches. So also, though, owing to the precau- 
tion of Livius, the Eoman camp showed no change of size, it had 
not escaped the quick ear of the Carthaginian general that the 
trumpet which gave the signal to the Eoman legions sounded that 
morning once oftener than usual, as if directing the troops of 
some additional superior officer. Hasdrubal, from his Spanish 
campaigns, was well acquainted with all the sounds and signals of 
Eoman war, and from all that he heard and saw, he felt convinced 
that both the Eoman consuls were before him. In doubt and dif- 
ficulty as to what might have taken place between the armies of 
the south, and probably hoping that Hannibal also was approach- 
ing, Hasdrubal determined to avoid an encounter with the com- 

' 

* Liv}-, lib. xx%'ll., c.46. 



JBA TTL E OF THE 3IETA UR U8. 97 

bincd Koman forces, and to endeavor to retreat npon Insubrian 
Gaul, where he would be in a friendly country, and could endeavor 
to re-open his communication with his brother. He therefore led 
his troops back into their camp ; and as the Komans did not ven- 
ture on an assault upon his entrenchments, and Hasdrubal didnoi 
choose to commence his retreat in their sight, the cJay passed away 
in inaction. At the first watch of the night, Hasdrubal led his men 
silently out of their camp^ and moved northward toward the Metau- 
rus, in the hope of placing that river between himself and the Ro- 
mans before his retreat was discovered. His guides betrayed him : 
and having purposely led him away from the part of the river that 
was fordable, they made their escape in the dark, and left Hasdru- 
bal and his army wandering in confusion along the steep bank, 
and seeking in vain for a spot where the stream could be safely 
crossed. At last they halted ; and when day dawned upon them, 
Hasdrubal found that great numbers of his men, in their fatigue 
and impatience, had lost all discipline and subordination, and that 
many of his Gallic auxiliaries had got drunk, and were lying 
helpless in their quarters. The Eoman cavalry were soon seen 
coming up in pursuit, followed at no great distance by the legions, 
which marched in readiness for an instant engagement. It was 
hopeless for Hasdrubal to think of continuing his retreat before 
them. The prospect of immediate battle might recall the disor- 
dered part of his troops to a sense of duty, and revive the instinct 
of discipline. He therefore ordered his men to prepare for action 
instantly, and made the best arrangement of them that the nature 
of the ground would permit. 

Heeren has well described the general appearance of a Carthagi- 
nian army. He says, "It was an assemblage of the most opposite 
races of the human species from the farthest parts of the globe. 
Hordes of half-naked Gauls were ranged next to companies of 
white-clothed Iberians, and savage Ligurians next to the far-trav- 
eled Nasamoni( s and Lotophagi. Carthaginians and Phenici- 
Africans formed the center, while innumerable troops ofNumidian 
horsemen, taken from all the tribes of the desert, swarmed about 
on unsaddled horses and formed the wings ; the van was com- 
posed of Balearic slingers ; and a line of colossal elephants, with 
their Ethiopian guides, formed, as it were, a chain of moving for- 
tresses before the whole army." Such were the usual materials 
and arrangements of t!ie hosts that fought for Carthage; but the 
troops under Hasdrubal were not in all respects thus constituted 
or thus stationed. He seems to have been especially deficient in 
cavalry, and he had few African troops, though some Carthaginians 
of high rank were with him. His veteran Spanish infantry, armed 
with helmets and shields, and short cut-and-thrust swords, were 
the best part of his army. These, and his few Africans, he drew 
up on his right wing, under his own personal command. In tho 
center he placed his Ligurian infantry, and oo the left wing hd 
D.B.-4 _ ' 



98 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

placed or retained the Ganls, vr\\o were armed with long javelins 
and with huge broad swords and targets. The rugged nature of 
the grotmd in front and on the llank of this part of his line made 
him hope that the luuuan right wing would b.^ unable to eoiuo to 
close quarters with these unserviceable barbarians before he could 
make some impression with his Spanish veterans on the lloman 
left. This was the only chance that he had of victory or safety, 
ftnd he seems to have done every thing that good generalship could 
do to secure it. He placed his elephants in advance of lis center 
and right wing. He had caused the driver of each of them to be 
provided with a sharp iron spike and a mallet, and had given 
orders that every beast that became unman igeable, and ran back 
npon his own r.inks. should be instantly killed, by driving the 
spike into the vertebra at the junction of the head and the spine. 
HasdrubaVs elephants were ti.n in number. AVo' have no trust- 
worthy information as to the amount of his infantry, but it is quite 
clear that he was greatly outnumbered by the combined Homan 
forces. 

The tactic of the Eouinn legions had not yet acquired that 
perfection which it received Irom the military genius of Marius, 
and which we read of in the tirst chapter of Oxibbon. We pos- 
sess in that great work, an account of the Eoman legions at the 
end of the commonwealth, and during the earlj'' ages of the em- 
pire, which those alone can adequately admire who have attempted 
ft similar description. We have also, in the sixth and seven- 
teenth books of Folybius, an elaborate discussion on the military 
system of the Eomans in his time, which was not far distant 
from tlie time of the battle of the JMotaurus. But the subject is 
beset with difficulties ; and instead of entering into minute but 
inconclusive details, I would refer to Gibbons first chapter as 
serving for a general description of the l\oman army in its period 
of x^erfection, and remark, that the tr.dning and armor which the 
whole legion received in the time ot" Augustus was, two centuries 
eiU'lier, only partially introduced. Two divisions of troops, called 
Hastati and rrincipes, formed the bulk of each Eoman legion in 
the second Punio war. Each of these divisions was twelve hun- 
dred strong. The Hastatus and the Princeps legionary bore a 
breast-plate or coat of mail, brazen greaves, and a brazen helmet, 
with a lofty upright crest of scarlet or black feathers. He had 
a large oblong shield ; and, as weapons of otiense, two javelins, 
one of which was light and slender, but^the other was a strong 
and massive weapon, with a shaft about four feet long, and an 
iron head of equal length. The sword was carried on the right 
thigh, and was a short cut-and-thrust weapon, like that which 

* "Most probablj' cluringrthe period ot his proloncred consulslii'\ fiotu b. c 
"04 to B c. 101, while he was tramiug- Ms arm;>- ogiiiust the cinibri iuid the 
Yeyton§. 



BA TTLE OF THE MET A UR US. 99 

vr&a used by the Spaniards. Thus armed, the Hastati formed 
tlie front divinion of the l(;gion, and the Principes the second. 
Eac;h diviBion wus drawn uj) about ton deep, a Hj^ace of three feet 
boing allowed between the lilos as well as the ranks, so as to 
give each higionary ample room for the uso of the javelins, and 
of his sword and shield. The men in the second rank did not 
stand immfdiately behind those in the first rank, but the files 
were alternate, like the position of the men on a draught-board. 
This was termed the quincunx order. Miebuhr considers that 
this arrangement enabled the legion to keep up a shower of jave- 
lins on the enemy for some considerable time. He says, "When 
the first line had hurled its jjila, it i)robably stepjjed back be- 
tween those who stood behind it, and two steps forward restored 
tlie front nearly to its first position ; a movement which, on ac- 
count of the arrangement of the quincunx, could be executed 
without losing a moment. Thus one line succeeded the other in 
the front till it was time to draw the swords ; nay, when it was 
found expedient, the lines which had already been in the front 
might repeat this change, since the stores of i)ila were surely not 
confined to the two which each soldier took with him into battle. 

" The same change must have taken place in fighting with the 
sword, which, when the same tactic was adopted on both sides, 
was anything but a confused melee ; on the contrary, it was a series 
of single combats." He adds, that a military man of experience 
had been consulted by him on the subject, and had given it as his 
opinion " tiiat the change of the lines as described above was by 
no means impracticable ; but in the absence of the deafening noise 
of gunpowder, it cannot have had any difficulty with well-trained 
trooj^s. " 

The third division of the legion was six hundred strong, and 
acted as a reserve. It was always composed of veteran Koldiers, 
who were called the Triarii. Their arms were the same as those 
of the Principes and Hastati, except that each Triarian carried 
a spear instead of javelins. The rest of the legion consisted of 
light-armed troops, who acted as «8kirmishers. The cavalry of 
each legion was at this period about three hundred strong. The 
Italian allies, who were attached* to the legion, seemed to have 
been similarly armed and equipped, but their numerical proportion 
of cavalry was much larger. 

Such was the nature of the forces that advanced on the Koman 
side to the battle of the Metaurus. Nero commanded the right 
wing, Livius the left, and the praetor Porcius had the command of 
the center. " Both Eomans and Carthaginians well understood 
how much depended upon the fortune of this day, and how little 
hope of safety there was for the vanquished. Only the Eomans 
herein seemed to have had the better in conceit and opinion that 
they were to fight with men desirous to have fled from them ; and 
according to this prceumption came Livius the consul, with a 



100 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

proud bravery, to give charge on the Spaniards and Africans, by 
■s^-hom he was so sharply entertained that the victory seemed very 
doubtful. The Africans and Spaniards vrere stout soldiers, and 
well acquainted with the manner of the Eoman fight. The 
Ligurians, also, were a hardy nation, and not accustomed to give 
ground, which they needed the less, or were able now to do, being 
placed in the midst. Livius, therefore, and Porcius found great 
opposition; and with great slaughter on both sides jjrevailed little 
or nothing. Besides other difficulties, they wero exceedingly 
troubled by the elephants, that brake their first ranks, and piit 
them in such disorder as the E,oman ensigns were driven to fall 
back ; all this while Claudius Nero, laboring in vain against a 
steep hill, was unable to come to blows with the Gauls that stood 
opposite him, ?jut out of danger. This made Hasdrubal the more 
confident, who, seeing his own left wing safe, did the more boldly 
and fiercely make impression on the other side upon the left wing 
of the Eomans."* 

But at last Nero, who found that Hasdrubal refused his left 
wing, and who could not overcome the difiiculties of the ground 
in the quarter assigned to him, decided the battle by another 
stroke of that military genius which had inspired his march. 
Wheeling a brigade of his best men round the rear of the rest of 
the Koman army, Nero fiercely charged the flank of the Spaniards 
and Africans. The charge was as success^ful as it was sudden. 
Eolled back in disorder upon each other, and overwhelmed by 
numbers, the Spaniards and Ligurians died, fighting gallantk: to 
-the last. The Gauls, who had taken little or no part in the strife 
of the day, were then surrounded, and butchered almost without 
resistance. Hasdrubal, after having, by the confession of his en- 
emies, done all that a general could do, when he saw that the vic- 
tory was irreparably lost, scorning to survive the gallant host 
which he had led, and to gratify, as a captive, Boman cruelty and 
pride, spurred his horse into the midst of a Bomaa cohort, and, 
sword in hand, met the death that was worthy of the son of Hamil- 
car and the brother of Hannibal. 

Success the most complete had crowned Nero's enterprise. Ee- 
turning as rapidly as he had advanced, he was again facing the 
inactive enemies in the south before they even knew ot" his march. 
But he brought with him a ghastly trophy of what he had done. 
In the true spirit of that savage brutality which deformed the 
Eoman national character, Nero ordered Hasdrubal's head to be 
flung into his brother's camp. Ten years had passed since Han- 
nibal had last gazed on those features. The sons of Hamilcarhad 
then planned their s^'stem of warfare against Eome, which they 
had so ne?'-ly brought to successful accomplishment. Year after 
year liid Hnnnibal been struggling in Italy, in the hope of one 

* •■ Kistorie oi: the World," by Sir Wulter Baleigli, p 94S. 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. lOi 

day hailing tlie arrival of him Ayliom lie had left in Spain, and oi 

., seeing his brother's eye flash with aflfection and pride at the junc- 

, ^ tion of their irresistible hosts. He now saw that eye glazed in 

death, and in the agony of his heart the great Carthaginian groaned 

^ aloud that he recognized his country's destiny. 

Meanwhile, at the tidings of the great battle, Rome at onco rose 

';^ from the thrill of anxiety and terror to the full confidence of 

-, , triumph. Hannibal might retain his hold on Southern Italy for a 

few years Ion ger, but the imperial city and her allies were no longer 

( in danger from his arms; and, after Hannibal's downfall, the 

r;^ great military republic of the ancient world met in her career of 

conquest no other worthy competitor. Byron has termed Nero s 

march "unequalled," and, in the magnitude cf its consequences, 

it .s f:o. Viewed only as a military exploit, it remains unparalleled 

save by Marlborough's bold march from Flanders to the Danube 

in the campaign of Blenheim, and perhaps also by the Archduke 

Charles's lateral march in 1796, by which he overwhelmed the 

French under Jourdain, and then, driving Moreau through the 

Black Forest and across the Bhine, for awhile freed Germany from 

her invaders. 






Synopsis of Events between the Battle op the IVIetaukus, b. c . 
207, AND Aeminius's Victory oveb the Eoman Legions under 
Varitjs, a. d. 9. 

B. C. 205 to 201. Scipio is made consul, and carries the war into 
Africa. He gains several victories there, and the Carthaginians 
recall Hannibal from Italy to oppose him. Battle of Zama in 201. 
Hannibal is defeated, and Carthage sues for peace. End of the 
second Punic war, leaving Bome confirmed in the dominion of 
Italy, Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica, and also mistress of great part 
of Spain, and virtually predominant in North Africa, 

200. Bome makes war upon Philip, king of Macedonia. She 
pretends to take the Greek cities of the Achaean league and the 
^tolians under her protection as allies. Philip is defeated by the 
proconsul Flamininus at Cynoscephalee, 198, and begs for peace. 
The Macedonian influence is now completely destroyed in Greece, 
and the Boman established in its stead, though Bome pretends to 
acknowledge the independence of the Greek cities. 

194. Bome makes war ujjon Antiochus, king of Syria. He is 
completely defeated at the battle of Magnesia, 192, and is glad to 
accept peace on conditions which leave him dependent upon 
Bome. 

200-190. "Thus, within the short space of ten years, was laid 
the foundation of the Boman authority in the East, and the gen- 
eral state of affairs entirely changed. If Bome was not yet th« 



102 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

nilev, slie was at least the arbitress of the Trorki from the Atlantic 
to the Euphrates. The power of the three principal states was so 
completely humbled, that they durst not, without the permission 
of Kome, begin any new war ; the fourth, Egypt, had already, in 
the Year 201, placed herself under the guardianship of Home ; and 
the lesser powers followed of themselves, esteeming it an honor to 
be called the allies of Bonie. AVith this name the nations were lulled 
into security, and brought under the Roman yoke ; the new 
political sytstem of Eome was founded and strengthened, partly 
by exciting and supporting the weaker states against the stronger, 
however unjust the cause of the former might be; and partly by 
factions which she foiind means to raise in every state, even the 
smallest." — ( hkeken.) 

172. War renewed between Macedon and Eome. Decisive de- 
feat of Perses, the Macedonian king, by Paulus .^milius at Pydna 
IGS. Destruction of the Macedonian monarch}'. 

150. Eome oppresses the Carthaginians till tliey are driven to 
take up arms, and the third Punic war begins. Carthage is taken 
and destroyed by Scipio ^milianus, l-iO, and the Carthaginian 
territory is made aEomaii province. 

1-46. In the same year in whicli Carthage falls, Corinth is stormed 
by the Eoman army under Mummius. The Achjean league had 
been goaded into hostilities with Eome by means similar to those 
employed against Carthage. The greater part of Southern Greece 
is made a Eoman province Tinder the name of Achaia. 

133. Numantium is destroyed by Scipio .Emilianus. "The war 
against the Spaniards, who, of all the nations subdued by the 
Eomans, defended their liberty with the greatest obstinacy, began 
in the year 200, six years after the total expulsion of the Carthagi- 
ni;ms from their country, 206. It wa-s exceedingly obstinate, partly 
from the natural state of the country, which was thickly popu- 
lated, and where every place became a fortress ; partly trom the 
courage of the inhabitants ; but above all, owing to the peculiar 
policy of the Eomans, who were wont to employ their allies to subdue 
other nations. This war continued, almost without interruption, 
from the year 200 to 133, and was for the most part carried on at 
the same time in Hispania Citerior, where the Celtiberi were the 
most formidable adversaries, and in Hispania Ulterior, where the 
Lusitani were equally powerful. Hostilities were at the highest 
pitch in 195, under Cato, who reduced Hispania Citerior to ti state 
of tranquillity in 185-179, when the Celtiberi were attacked in 
their nati^e territory and 155--150, when the Eomans in both prov- 
inces were so often beaten, that nothing was more divaded l)y the 
soldiers at home than to be sent there. The extortions and perfidy 
of Servius Galba placed Yiriathus, in the year 14:6, at the head of 
his nation, the Lusitani : the war, however, soon extended itself to 
Hispania Citerior, where many nations, particularly the Numan- 
tines, took up arms against Eome, 143. Viriathus, sometimes victo- 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 103 

rius and sometimes defeated, was never more formidable than in 
the moment of defeat, because he knew how to take advantage of his 
knowledge of the country and of the dispositions of his countrymen. 
After his murder, caused Vjy the treachery of Caepio, 140. Lusitania 
was subdued ; but the Numantine war became still more violent, 
and the Numantines compelled the consul Mansinus to a disad- 
vantageous treaty, 137. When Scipio, in the year 133, put an end 
to this war, Spain was certainly tranquil ; the northern parts, how- 
ever, were still unsubdued, though the Romans penetrated as far 
•HS Galatia," — (Heeeen.) 

134. Commencement of the revolutionary century at Eome, i. e., 
from the time of the excitement produced by the attempts made 
by the Gracchi to reform the commonwealth, to the battle of Ac- 
tium (B.C. 31), which established Octavianus Caesar as sole master 
of the Roman world. Throughout this period Rome was engaged 
in important foreign wars, most of which procured large accessions 
to her territory. 

118-106. The Jugurthine war. Numidia is conquered, and 
made a Roman conquest. 

113-101. The great and temble war of the Cimbri and Teutones 
against Rome. These nations of northern warriors slaughter sev- 
eral Roman armies in Gaul, and in 102 attempt to penetrate into 
Italy. The military genius of Marius here saves his countx-y ; he 
defeats the Teutones near Aix, in Provence ; and in the following 
year he destroys the army of the Cimbri, who had passed the Alps, 
near Vercellse. 

91-88. The war of the Italian allies against Rome. This was 
caused by the refusal of Rome to concede to thorn the rights of 
Roman citizenship. After a sanguinary struggle, Rome gradually 
concedes it. 

89-85. First war of the Romans against Mithradates the Great 
king of Pontus, who had overrun Asia Minor, Macedonia, and 
Greece. Sylla defeats his armies, and forces him to withdraw his 
forces from Europe. Sylla returns to Rome to carry on the civil 
war against the son and partisans of Marius. He makes himself 
dictator, 

74-64. The last Mithradatic wars. LucuUus, and after him 
Pompeius, command against the great king of Pontus, who at last 
is poisoned by his son, while designing to raise the warlike tribes 
of the Danube against Rome, and to invade Italy from the north- 
east. Great Asiatic conquests of the Romans. Besides the ancien ■ 
province of Pergamus, the maritime counties of Bithynia and 
nearly all Paphlagonia and Pontus, are formed into a Roman 
province under the name of Bithynia, while on the southern coast 
Cilicia and Pamphylia form another under the name of Cilicia ; 
Phenicia and Syria compose a third under the name of Syria. On 
the other hand, Great Armenia is left to Tigranes ; Cappadocia to 
Ariobarzanes ; the Bosphorus to Plxamaces ; Judaea to Hyrcanus ; 



104 PEcr^rris; .BATTLES, 

nnd some oiher s^mall states are also given to petty princes, all of 
whom renirtiu dopoudont on Eomo. 

r>8~-o0. 0;vs!\r oouquoi-s Gaul. 

54. Cmssus attaoks the Tartliijuis vritli a Eoman army, but 14 
overtlirv^wn and killed at Carrhiv ii\ Mesopotamia. His lieutenant 
Cassius eolleots the \vreoks of the army, and prevents the Partliians 
from oonquerinjz Syria. 

4iM^. The civil war between C;vsar and the Pompeian party. 
Ei»\-pt. Mauritania, luid Pontus are involved in the consequences 
of this war. 

44:. Ci^Siur is killed in the Capitol ; the civil wars are soon re- 
newed. 

4*2. Death of Brutas and Cassius at Philippi. 

31. Death of Antony tmd Cleopatrj\. Egypt becomes a Eoman 
province, ivnd Augustus Caesar is left undisputed master of Kome, 
and all that is Eome's. 



CIiAPTEE \. 

TICTOBY OF ASMIXTTS OTEE THE KOMAN LEGIONS TTNDXB 

TABUS, A.D. i>. / 

Hac clade factum ut Impertum. quod in lltore ocean! non steterat. In ripa 
Ithenl fiuminis staret^^FLonrs. 

To a truly illustrious Frenchman, whose reverses as a minister 
can never obscure his achievements in the world of letters, we are 
indebted for the most profound and most eloquent estimate that 
we possess of the importance of the Crermanic element in European 
civilization, t\nd of the extent to which the human race is indebted 
to those brave warriors whl) long were the ud conquered antago- 
nists, and finally became the conquerers. of imperial Eome. 

Twenty-three eventful years have passed away since M. Guizot 
delivered from the chair of modern history at Paris his course of 
lectures on the history of Civilization in Europe. During those 
years the spirit of earnest inquiry into the germs and primary de- 
velopments of existing institutions has become more ;\nd more 
active and universal, and the merited celebrity of M. Guizot s work 
has proportionally increased. Its admirable analysis of the com- 
plex politicjU and social orgt^nizations of which the modern civil- 
ized world is made up. must have led thousands to trace with 
keener interest the great crises of times past, by which the char- 
acteristics of the present were determined. The narrative of one 
of these great crises, of the epoch a. p. 9. when Germtvny took up 
fU'ms for her independence agiunst Koman invasion, lias for us 



V 



VICTORY OF AnMimUS. 105 

this special attraction — that it forms x^art of our o-wn national his- 
tory. Had Arminius been supine or unsuccessful, our Germanic 
ancestors would have been enslaved or exterminated in the'ir 
original seats along the Eyder and the Elbe. This island would 
nerer have borne the name of England, and "we, this great Eng- 
lish nation, whose race and language are now overrunning the 
earth, from one end of it to the other,"* would have been utterly 
cut off from existence. 

Arnold may, indeed, go too far in holding that we are wholly 
unconnected in race with the Romans and Britons who inhabited 
this country before the coming over of the 8axons; that, " nation- 
ality speaking, the history of Caesar's invasion has no more to do 
with us than the natural history of the animals which then 
inhabited our forests," There seems ample evidence to jjrove 
that the Homanized Celts whom our TeuVjnic forefathers found 
here influenced materially the character of our nation. But the 
main stream of our people was and is Germanic. Our language 
alone decisively jjroves this. Arminius is far more truly one of 
our national heroes than Caractacus; and it was our own primeval 
fatherland that the brave German rescued when he slaughtered 
the Reman legions eighteen centuries ago, in the marshy glens 
between the Lippe and the Ems.f 

/ Dark and disheartening, even to heroic spirits, must have seemed 
the jjrospects of Germany when Arminius T>lanned the general 
rising of his countrymen against Rome. Half the land was occu- 
pied by Roman garrisons; and, what was worse, many of the 
Germans seemed patiently acquiescent in their state of bondage. 
The braver portion, whose patriotism could be relied on, was ill 
armed and undisciplined, while the enemy's troops consisted of 
veterans in the highest state of equipment and training, familiar- 
ized with victory, and commanded by officers of proved skill and 
valor. The resources of Rome seemed boundless ; her tenacity 
of purpose was believed to be invincible. There was no hope of 
. foreign sympathy or aid ; for "the self-governing powers that had 
filled the Old World had bent one after another before the rising 
power of Rome, and had vanished. The earth seemed left void of 
independent nations. J:. 

The German chieftain Imew well the gigantic power of the op- 
pressor, Arminius was no rude savage, fighting out of mere animal 
instinct, or in ignorance of the might ot his adversary. He was 
familiar with the Roman language and civilization ; he had serv^ed 
in the Roman armies ; he had been admitted to the Roman citizen- 
ship, and raised to the rank of the equestrian order. It was part 
of the subtle policy of Rome to confer rank and privileges on the 



♦Arnold's " Lectures on Modern History." 

1 See p(Mit, remarks on the relationsMp betwewi tlie Cheru^c and the Eng' 



106 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

youth of the leading families in the nations which she wished to 
enslave. Among otuer young German chieftains, Arminius and 
his brother, who were the heads of the noblest house in the tribe 
of the Cherusci, had been selected as lit objects for the exercise of 
this insidious system. Koman refinements and dignities succeed- 
ed in denationalizing the brother who assumed the Eoman 
name of Flavius, and adhered to Rome throughout all her wars 
against his country. Arminius remained unbought by honors or 
wealth, uncorrupted by refinement or luxury. He aspired to and 
obtained from Homan enmity a higher title than ever could have 
been given him by Roman favor. It is in the page of Rome's 
greatest historian that his name has come down to us with the 
proud addition of "Liberator haud dubie Germaniae."* 

Often must the yoiing cheiftain, while meditating the exploit 
which has thus immortalized him, have anxiously revolved in his 
mind the fate of the many great men who had been crushed in the 
attempt which he was abo-ut to renew — the attempt to stay the 
chariot-wheels of triumphant Rome. Could he hope to succeed 
where Hannibal and Mithradates had perished? What had been 
the doom of Yiriathus? and what warning against vain valor was 
written on the desolate site where Numantia once had flourished ? 
Nor was a caution wanting in scenes nearer home and more recent 
times. The Giuls had fruitlessly struggled for eight years against 
Cffisar; and the gallant Vercingetorix, who in the last year of the 
war had roused all his countrymen to insurrection, who had cut 
off Roman detachments, and brought Caesar himself to the extreme 
of peril at Alesia — he, too, had finally succumbed, had been led 
captive in Caesars triumph, and had then been butchered in cold 
blood in a Roman dungeon. 

It was true that Rome was no longer the great military republic 
which for so many ages had shattered the kingdoms of the world. 
Her system of government was changed; and after a centiiry of 
revolution and civil war, she had placed herself under the despot- 
ism of a single ruler. But the discipline of her troops was yet un- 
impaired, and her warlike spirit seemed unabated. The first year" 
of the empire had been signalized by conquests as valuable as any 
gained by the republic in a corresponding period. It is a great 
fallacy, though apparently sanctioned by great authorities, to sup» 
pose that the foreign policy pursued by Augustus was pacific; he 
certainly recommended such a policy to his successors {inrertum 
metu an per invidiam, Tac, Ann.,i., IV, but he himself, until Ar- 
minius broke his spirit, had followed a very different course. 
Besides his Spanish wars, his generals, in a series of generally 
aggressive campaigns, had extended the Roman frontier from the 
Alps to the Danube, and had reduced into subjection the large 
and important countries that now form the territories of all Austria 

* Tacitus, 'Annals," ii., ss. 



VICTOBY OF ABMimUS. W 

sontli of that river, and of East Switzerland, Lower Wirtemberg 
Bavaria, the ValtelJine, and the Tyrol. While the progress of the 
Koman arms thus pressed the Germans from the south, still more 
formidable inroads had been made by the imperial legions on the 
■west. Eoman armies, moving from the province of Gaul, estab- 
lished a chain of fortresses along the right as \vell as the left bank 
of the Khine, and, in a series of victorious campaigns, advanced 
their eagles as far as the Elbe, which now seemed added to the list 
of vassal rivers, to the Nile, the Rhine, the Ehone, the Danui e, 
the Tagus, the Seine, and many more, that acknowledged the 
supremacy of the Tiber. Eoman fleets also, sailing from the harbors 
of Gaul along the German coasts and up the estuaries, co-operated 
■with the land-forces of the empire, and seemed to display, even 
more decisively than her armies, htr overwhelming superiority 
over the rude Germanic tribes. Throughout the territory thus in- 
vaded, the Romans had, with their usual military skill, established 
fortified posts ; and a powerful army of occupation ■was kept on 
foot, ready to move instantly on any spot where any popular out- 
break might be attempted. 

Vast, however, and admirably organized as the fabric of Eoman 
power appeared on the frontiers and in the provinces, there ■was 
rottenness at the core. In liome's unceasing hostilities with foreign 
foes, and still more in her long series of desolating civil wars, 
the free middle classes of Italy had almost wholly disappeared. 
Above the position which they had occupied, an oligarchy of 
wealth had reared itself ; beneath that position, a degraded mass 
of poverty and misery was fermenting. Slaves, the chance sweep- 
ings of every conquered country, shoals of Africans, Sardinians, 
Asiatics, Illyrians, and others, made up the bulk of the population 
of the Italian peninsula. The foulest profligacy of manners was 
general in all ranks. In universal weariness of revolution and 
civil war, and in consciousness of being too debased for self-gov- 
ernment, the nation had submitted itself to the absolute authority 
of Augustus. Adulation was now the chief function of the senate; 
and the gifts of genius and accomplishments of art were devoted 
to the elaboration of eloquently false panegyrics upon the prince 
and his favorite courtiers. With bitter indignation must the Ger- 
man chieftain have beheld all this, and contrasted with it the 
rough worth of his own countrymen: their bravery, their fidelity 
to their word, their manly independence of spirit, their love oi 
their national free institutions, and their loathing of every pollu- 
tion and meanness. Above all, he must have thought of the 
domestic virtues that hallo^wed a German home; of the respect there 
shown to the female character, and of the pure affection by which 
that respect was repaid. His soul must have burned within him 
at the contemplation of such a race yielding to these debaised 
Italians. 

&till, to persuade the Germans to combine, in spite of their 



108 DECISIVE £ATTLm. 

frequent fends among themselves, in one sudden outbreak against 
Kome: to keep the scheme concealed from the Eomans until the 
hour for action arrived; and then, without possessing a single 
walled town, without military stores, without training, to teach 
his insurgent countrj^men to defeat veteran armies and storm for- 
tifications, seemed so perilous an enterprise, that probably Armin- 
ius would have receded from it had not a stronger feeling even 
than patriotism urged him on. Among the Germans of high rank 
who had most readily submitted to the invaders, and become zeal- 
ous partisans of Roman authority, was a chieftain named Segestes. 
His daughter, Thusnelda, was pre-eminent among the noble 
maidens of Germany. Arminius had sought her hand in marriage; 
but Segestes, who probably discerned the young chiefs disaffection 
to Home, forbade his suit, and strove to preclude all communica- 
tion between him and his daughter. Thusnelda, however, sym- 
pathized far more with the heroic spirit of her lover than with the 
time-serving policy of her father. An elopement baffled the pre- 
cautions of Segestes, who, disappointed in his hope of preventing 
the marriage, accused Arminius before theBoman governor of hav- 
ing carried off his daughter, and of planning treason against Eome. 
Thus assailed, and dreading to see his bride torn from him by the 
officials of the foreign oppressor, Arminius delayed no longer, but 
bent all his energies to organize and execute a general insurrec- 
tion of the great mass of his countrymen, who hitherto had sub- 
mitted in sullen hatred to the Eoman dominion. 

A change of governors had recently taken place, which, while it 
materially favored the ultimate success of the insurgents, served, 
by the immediate aggravation of the Eoman oppressions which it 
produced, to make the native population more universally eager 
to take arms. Tiberius, who was afterward emperor, had recently 
been recalled from the command in Germany, and sent into Pan- 
Uonia to put down a dangerous revolt which had broken out 
ligainst the Romans in that province. The German patriots were 
thus delivered from the stern supervision of one of the most suspi- 
cious of mankind, and were also relieved from having to contend 
against the high military talents of a veteran commander, who 
thoroughly understood their national character, and also the na- 
ture of the country, which he himself had principally subdued. 
In the room of Tiberius, Augustus sent into Germany Quintilius 
Varus, who had lately returned from the proconsulate of Syria. 
Varus was a true representative of the higher classes of the Ro- 
mans, among whom a general taste for literature, a keep suscepti- 
bility to all intellectual gratifications, a minute acquaintance with 
the principles and practice of their own national jurisprudence, a 
'careful training in the schools of the rhetoricians and a fondness 
for either partaking in or watching the intellectual strife of foren- 
sic oratory, had become generally diffused, without, however, 
iiaving humanized the old Roman spirit of cruel indifference for 



nCTOBY OF ABMINIUS. 109 

human feelings and human sufferings, and without acting as the 
least checks on principled avarice and ambition, or on habitual 
and gross profligacy. Accustomed to govern the depraved and 
debased natives of Syria, a country where courage m man and 
virtue in woman had for centuries been unknown, Varus thought 
that he might gratify his licentious and rapacious passions with 
equal impunity among the high-minded sons and pure-spirited 
daughters of Germany.* When the general of an army sets the 
example of outrages of this description, he is soon faithfully imi- 
tated by his oflacers, and surpassed by his still more brutal sol- 
diery. The Komans now habitually indulged m those violations 
of the sanctity of the domestic shrine, and those insults upon 
honor and modesty, by which far less gallant spirits than those of 
our Teutonic ancestors have often been maddened into insurrec- 
tion. 

Arminius found among the other German chiefs many wlio 
sympathized with him in his indignation at their country's abase- 
ment, and many whom private wrongs had stung yet more deeply. 
There was little difidculty in collecting bold leaders' for an attack 
on the oppressors, and little fear of the population not rising 
readily at those leaders' call. But to declare open war against 
Kome, and to encounter Varus's army in a pitched battle, would 
have been merely rushing upon certain destruction. Varus had 
three legions under him, a force which, after allowing for detach- 
ments, cannot be estimated at less than fourteen thousand Koman 
infantry. Ho had also eight or nine hundred Koman cavalry, and 
at least an equal number of horse and foot sent from the allied 
states, or raised among other provincials who had not received the 
Roman franchise. 

It was not merely the number, but the quality of this force that 
made them formidable ; and, however contemptible Varus might 
be as a general, Arminius well knew how admirably the Eoman 

*I cannot forlDear quoting Macaulay's beautiful lines, where tie de- 
scribes how similar outrages in the early times of Borne goadea tne ple- 
beians to rise against the patricians : 
"Heap heavier still the fetters ,• bar closer still the grate ; 

Patient as sheep we yield us up unto your cruel hate. 

But by the shades beneath us, and by the gods above, 

Add not unto your cruel hate your still more cruel love. 
* * * * 

Then leave the poor plebeian his single tie to llf e— 

The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister, and of wife, 

The gentle speech, the balm for all that his vex'd soul endures, 

The kiss in which he half forgets even such a yoke as yours. 

Still let the maiden's beauty swell the father's breast with pride ; 

Still let the bridegroom's arms enfold an unpolluted bride. 

Spare us the inexpiable wrong, the unutterable shame, ^ ^ ^ 

That turns the coward's heart to steel, tne sluggard's blood to flame ; 

Lesb when our latest hope Is fled ye taste of oiir despair. 

And learn by proof, in some wild hour, how much the wretched dare. 



110 DECISIVJE BATTLES. 

armies vt^ere organized and ofl&cered, and how perfectly the legion* 
aries \inderstood every maneuver and every duty which the vary- 
ing emergencies of a stricken field might require. Ptratagem was, 
therefore, indispensable ; and it was necessary to blind Varus to 
their schemes \intil a favorable opportunity t'^hould arrive for strik- 
ing a decisive blow. 

For this purpose, the German confederates frequented the head- 
quarters of Varus, which seem to have been near the center of the 
modern country of "Westphalia, where the Roman general conduct- 
ed himself with all the arrogant secTirity of the .ijovernor of a per- 
fectly submissive province. There Variis gratified at once his 
vanity, his rhetorical tastes, and his avarice, by holding courts, to 
which he summoned the Germans for the settlement of all their 
disputes, while a bar of Roman advocates attended to argue the 
cases before the tribunal of Varus, who did not omit the opportU' 
nity of exacting court-fees and accepting bribes. Varus trusted 
implicitly to the respect which the Germans pretended to pay to 
his abilities as a judge, and to the interest which they atfected to 
take in the forensic eloquence of their conquerers. Mejxnwhile, a 
succession of heavy rains rendered the country more difficult for 
the operations of regular troops, and Arminius, seeing that the in- 
fatuation of Varus was complete, secretly directed the tribes near 
the Weser and the Ems to take up arms in open revolt against the 
Romans. This was represented to Varus as an occasion Vhich re- 
quired his prompt attendance at the spot ; but he was kept in stud- 
ied ignorance of its being part of a concerted national rismr; ; and 
he still looked on Arminius as his submissive vassal, whose aid he 
might rely on in facilitating the march of his troops against the 
rebels, and in extinquishing the local disturbance. He thereroro 
set his army in motion, and marched eastward in a line parallel 
to the course of the Lippe. For some distance his route lay along 
a level plain ; but arriving at the tract between the curve of the 
upper part of that stream and the sources of the Ems, the country 
assumes a very difterent character ; and here, in the territory of the 
modern little principality of Lippe, it was tJiat Arminius had fixed 
the scene of his enterprise. 

A woody and hilly region intervenes between the heads of the 
two rivers, and forms the water-shed of their streams. This region 
still retains the name ( Teutoberger wald = Teutobergiensissaltus ) 
which it bore in the days of Arminius. The nature of the ground 
Jias probablj^ also remained unaltered. The eastern part of it, 
i?ound Detmold, the modern capital of the principality of l.ippe, is 
described by a modern German scholar. Dr. Plite, as being a 
"table-land intersected by numerous deep and narrow valleys, 
which in some places form small plains, surrounded by steep 
mountains and rocks, and only accessible by narrow defiles. 
All the valleys are travei'sed by rapid streams, shallow in the dry 
season, but subject to sudden swellings in autumn and winter. 



VICTORY OF ARMINIUB. Ill 

The vast forests which cover the summits and slopes of the hills 
consist chiefly of oak ; there is little underwood, and Vjoth men and 
horse would move with ease in the forests if the ground were not 
broken by gulleys, or rendered impracticable by fallen trees." 
This is the district to which Varus is supposed to have marched ; 
and Dr. Plate adds, tliat "the names of several localities on and 
near that spot seem to indicate that a great battle has once been 
fought there. We find the names ' dws Winnefeld' ( the field of 
victory ), * die Knochenbaljn ' ( the bone-lane ), 'die Knochenleke' 
( the bone-brook ), ' der Mordkessel ' ( the kettle of slaughter), and 
others."* 

Contrary to the usual strict principles of Roman discipline, 
Varus had suffered his army to bo accompanied and impeded by an 
immense train of baggage-wagons and by a rabble of camp follow- 
ers, as if his trooj^s had been merely changing their quarters in a 
friendly country. When the long array quitted the firm level 
grtmnd, and began to wind its way among the woods, the marshes, 
and the ravines, the difficulties of the march, even without the 
intervention of an armed foe, became fearfully apparent. In 
many places, the soil, sodden with rain, was impracticable for 
cavalry, and even for infantry, until trees had been felled, and a 
rude causeway formed through the morass. 

The duties of the engineer were familiar to all who served in 
the lioman armies. But the crowd and confusion of the columns 
embarassed the working parties of the soldiery, and in the midst 
oi their toil and disorder the word was suddenly passed through 
their ranks that the rear guard was attacked by the barbarians. 
Varus resolved on pressing forward; but a heavy discharge of 
missiles from the woods on either flank taught him how serious 
was the peril, and he saw his best- men falling round him without 
the opportunity of retaliation; for his light-armed auxiliaries, who 
were principally of Germanic race, now rapidly deserted, and it 
was impossible to deploy the legionaries on such broken ground 
for a charge against the enemy. Choosing one of the most open 
and firm spots which they could force their way to, the Romans 
halted for the night; and, faithful to their national discipline and 
tactics, formed their camp amid the harassing attacks of the 
rapidly thronging foes, with the elaborate toil and systematic 
skill, the traces of which are impressed permanently on the soil 
of so many European countries, attesting the presence in the olden 
time of the Imp^nial eagles. 

On the morrow the Romans renewed their march, the veteran 
officers who served under Varus now probably directing the oper- 
ations, and hoping to find the Germans drawn up to meet them- 
in which case they relied on their own superior discipline and 

•'= 1 am indebted for mucti valuable information on this subject to my 
filerid, 3Ir. Henry I'earson. 



112 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

tactics for siicli a victory as slioukl reassure tlie supremacy of 
Home. But Arminius was far too sage a commander to lead on 
liis followers, with their unwieldy broadswords and inefficient de- 
fensive armor, against the Ivoman legionaries, fully armed with 
helmet, cuirass, greaves, and shield, who were skilled to commence 
the conflict with a murderous volley of heavy javelins, _h\irled 
upon the foe when a few yards distant, and then, with their short 
cut-and-thrust swords, to'hcM' their way through all oppositioix, 
preserving the utmost steadiness and coolness, and obeying each 
word of command in the midst of strife and slaughter with the 
same precision and alertness as if upon parade.* Arminius 
suffered the Eomans to march out from their camp , to form first 
in line for action, and then in column for marching, without the 
show of opposition. For some disttmce Varus was allowed to 
move on. only harassed by slight skirmishes, but struggling with 
difficulty through the broken ground, the toil and distress of his 
men being aggravated by heavy torrents of rain, which burst upon 
the devoted legions, as if the angry gods of Germany were pouring 
out the vials of their wrath iipon the invaders. After some little 
time their van ai:>proached a ridge of high woody ground, which is 
one of the otishoots of the great Hercynian forest, and is situate 
between the modern villages of Driburg and Bielefeld. Arminius 
had caused barricades of hewn troes to be formed here, so as to 
add to tS<3*natiiral difficulties of the passage. Fatigue and dis- 
couragement now began to betray themselves in the Eoman ranks. 
Their line became less steady; baggage wagons were abandoned 
from the impossibility of forcing them along; and, as this happen- 
ed, many soldiers left their ranks and crowded round the wagons 
to secTTre the most valuable portions of their property: each was 
busy about his own aflairs, and purposely slow in hearing the 
word of command from his officers. Arminius now gave the sig- 
nal for a general attack. The fierce shouts of the Germans pealed 
through the gloom of the forests, and in thronging multitudes 
they assailed the flanks of the invaders* pouring in clouds of darts 
on the encumbered legionaries, as they struggled up the glens or 
floundered in the morasses, and watching every opportunity of 
charging through the intervals of the disjointed column, and so 
cutting off the commimication between its several brigades. Ar«= 
minius, with a chosen band of personal retainers round him. 
jcheered on his countrymen by voice and example. He and his; 
men aimed their weapons particularly at the horses of the Eoman 
cavalry. The wounded animals, slipping about in the mire and 
their own blood, threw their riders and plunged among the ranks 
of the legions, disordering all round them. Varus now ordered 

* See Gililton's aesi^ri^nicn (vol 1., cliap. i ) of the Eoman resrions in the 
time of Augustus! -, and see tlie description in Tacitus, "Ann./' lib. i., of the 
subsequent battles between Ccecina and Arminius, 



VICTOR T OF ABMINIUS. 113 

the troops to be countermarched, in the hope of reaching the 
nearest iioman garrison on the Lippe.* But retreat now was as 
impracticable as advance; and the falling back of the Komans 
only augmented the courage of their assailants, and caused fiercer 
and more frequent charges on the flanks of the disheartened 
army. The lloman ofl&cer who commanded the cavalry, Kumon- 
ius Vala, rode off with his squadrons in the vain hope of escaping 
by thus abandoning his comrades. Unable to keep together, or 
force their way across the woods and swamps, the horsemen were 
overpowered in detail, and slaughtered to the last man. The Ro- 
man infantry still held together and resisted, but more through 
"the instinct of discipline and bravery than from any hope of suc- 
cess or escape. Varus, after being severely wounded in a charge 
of the Germans against his part of the column, committed suicide 
to avoid falling into the hands of those whom he had exasperated 
by his oppressions. One of the lieutenant generals of the army 
fell fighting ; the other surrendered to the enemy. But mercy to 
a fallen foe had never been a Roman virtue, and those among her 
legions who now laid down their arms in hojje of quarter, drank 
deep of the cup of suffering, which Rome had held to the lips of 
many a brave but unfortunate enemy. The infuriated Germans 
slaughtered their oppressors with deliberate ferocity, and those 
prisoners who were not hewn to pieces on the spot were only pre- 
served to perish by a more cruel death in cold blood. 

The bulk of the Roman army fought steadily and stubbornly, 
frequently repelling the masses of assailants, but gradually losing 
the compactness of their array, and becoming weaker and- weaker 
beneath the incessant shower of darts and the reiterated assaults 
of the vigorous and unencumbered Germans. At last, in a series 
of desperate attacks, the column was pierced through and through, 
two of the eagles captured, and the Roman host which on the y ester 
morning had marched forth in such pride and might, now broken 
up into confused fragments, either fell fighting beneath the over- 
powering numbers of the enemy, or perished in the swamps and 
woods in unavailing efforts at fiight. Few, very few, ever saw 
again the left bank of the. Rhine. One body of brave veterans, 
arraying themselves in a ring on a little mound, beat off every 

* The circumstances of the early part of thelsattle which Armlnius fought 
with cgeclna six years afterward eviaently resembled those of his battle 
with Varus, and the result was very near helng the same : I have therefore 
aflopted part of the description which Tacitus gives (' Annal., lib., L, c. 05) 
of the last- mentioned engagement: "Ncque tamen Armlnlus, quamquaui 
llbero Incursu, statim prorupit: sed ut hffisere coeno fossisque impedimenta, 
turbatl clrcum milites ; incertus slgnorum ordo ; utque tali In tempore slbl 
quisque properus, et lentse adversum mperia aures Irnimpoie Gerrnanos 
jubet, clamitans 'En varus, et eodem Itenim fato victse leglones! ' Slmul 
haec, et cum delectls sclndit agmen, equisque maxime vulnera Ingerlt ; illi 
sanguine suo et lubjico paludum lapsantes, excussis rectoribus, disjlcere 
obvios, proterere jacentes.' " 



lU BECISIVE BATTLES, 

charge of the Germnns, and prolonged their honorable resistance 
to the close of that dreadful day. The traces of a feeble attempt at 
forming a ditch and mound attested in after years the spot where 
the last of thellomans passed their night of suffering and despair. 
But on the morrow this remnant also, worn out with hunger, 
Wounds, and toil, was charged by the yictorious Germans, and 
■^ther massacred on the spot, or offered up in fearful rites at the 
iltars of the deities of the old mythology of the North. 

A gorge in the mountain ridge, through which runs the modern 
toad between Paderborn and Pyrmont, leads from the spot where 
the heat of the battle raged to the Extersteine, a cluster of bold 
and grotesque rocks of sandstone, near which is a small sheet of 
water, overshadowed by a grove of aged trees. According to local 
tradition, this was one of the sacred groves of the ancient Germans, 
and it was here that the Eoman captives were slain in sacrifice by 
the victorious warriors of Arminius. * 

Never was a victory more decisive, never was the liberation of 
an oppressed people more instantaneous and complete. Through- 
out Germany the Eoman garrisons were assailed and cut off; and, 
«vithin a few weeks after Varus had fallen, the German soil was 
freed from the foot of an invader. 

At Kome the tidings of the battle were received wdth an agony 
of terror, the reports of which we should deem exaggerated, did 
they not come from Eoman historians themselves. They not only 
tell emphatically how great was the awe which the Eomans felt of 
the prowess of the Germans, if their various tribes could be 
brought to unite for a common purpose, f but also they reveal how 
weakened and debased the population of Italy had become. Dion 
Cassius says (lib. Ivi,, sec. 23), "Then Augustus, when he heard 
the calamity of Varus, rent his garment, and was in great affliction 
for the troops he had lost, and for terror respecting the Germans 
and the Gauls. And his chief alarm was, that he expected them 
to push on against Italy and Eome ; and there remained no 
Eoman youth tit for military duty that were worth speaking of, 
and the allied populations, that were at all serviceable, had been 
wasted away. Yet he prepared for the emergency as well as his 
means allowed ; and when none of the citizens of military age 
were willing to enlist, he made them cast lots, and punished by, 

* " Lucis propinquis laarbarie ara;, apud quas tribunes ac primorum or- 
dinum ceuturioue^ mactaveraut."— Tacitus, Ann., lib. i., c t>l. 

t It is clear that the Koiuans followed tlie policy of fomenting dissensions 
and wars of the Germans among themselves. See the thirty-se'cond section 
of the -'(jJermunla " of laeitus. where he mentions the destruction of the 
Bructeri by the neiynboriiig tribes; " Favore quodam ergamos deorum : 
nam ne speotaculo quidem pra-lii invldere ; super Ix. niillia nou arniis tel- 
isque Konuuils. sed quod magnitlcentius est, obleotationl ocuhsque cecide- 
runt. jNlaiieat qua-so, duretque gentibus, si non amor nostri, at certe odium 
sui : quando uigentibus imperii falls, hihil jam prajstare for tvma majiw 
potest quaia huatluiu discordiam." 



VICTOR T OF ABMimUS. 115 

confiscation of goods and disfranchisement every fifth man among 
those under thirty-live, and every tenth man of those above that 
age. At h^s^, when he found that not even thus could he make 
many come forward, he put some of them to death. So he made 
a conscription of discharged veterans and of emancipated slaves, 
and, collecting as large a force as he could, sent it, under Tiberius, 
with all speed into Germany." 

Dion mentions, also, a number of terrific portents that were be- 
''lieved to have occurred at the time, and the narration of which 
is not immaterial, as it shows the state of the public mind, when 
8uch things were so believed in and so interpreted. The summits 
of the Alps were said to have fallen, and three columns of fire to 
have blazed up from them. In the Campus Martins, the temple of 
the war-god, from whom the founder of Eome had sprung, was 
struck by a thunderbolt. The nightly heavens glowed several 
times, as if on fire. Many comets blazed forth together; and fiery 
meteors shaped like spears, had shot from the northern quarter 
of the sky down into the Koman camps. It was said, too, that a 
statue of Victory, which had stood at a place on the frontier, point- 
ing the way toward Germany, had, of its own accord, turned 
round, and now pointed to Italy. These and other prodigies were 
believed by the multitude to accompany the slaughter of Varus's 
legions, and to manifest the anger of the gods against Home. 
Augustus himself was not free from superstition ; but on this 
occasion no supernatural terrors were needed to increase the alarm 
and grief that he felt, and which made him, even months after the 
news of the battle had arrived, often beat his head against the 
wall, and exclaim, " Quintilius Varus, give me back my legions." 
We learn this from his biographer Suetonius ; and, indeed, every 
ancient writer who alludes to the overthrow of Varus attests the 
importance of the blow against the Eoman power, and the bitter- 
ness with which it was felt.* 

The Germans did not pursue their victory beyond t^ieir own 
territory; but that victory secured at once and forever the inde- 
pendence of the Teutonic race. Rome sent, indeed, her legions, 
again into Germany, to parade a temporary superiority, but all hopes 
©f permanent conquests were abandoned by Augustus and his suc- 
cessors. 

The blow which Arminius had struck never was forgotten. Ho* 
man fear disguised itself under the specious title of moderation, 
and the Rhine became the acknowledged boundary of the two 
nations until the fifth century of our era, when the Germans be- 
came the assailants, and carved with their conquering swords the 
provinces of imperial Eome into the kingdoms of modern Eu- 
rope. 

* Florus expresses Its effect most pithily : ' ' Ilac clade factum est ut Im^ 

gerlum quod In litore ocean! non steterat, in ripa Rheni fiuminls staret," 
r>j 12* 



116 DECISIVE BATTLES, 



Akminius. 

I hare snicl abovo that the great Chonisoan is more truly one of 
our natioual horoos than Caraetaciis is. It may bo added that an 
Englishman is entitled to claim a closer degree of relationship 
with Arminins than can be claimed by any German of modern 
Germany, The pi*oof of this depends on the proof of four facts : 
first, that the Cheruscans Awre Old Saxons, or Saxons of the inte- 
rior of Germany ; secondly, that the Anglo-Saxons, or Saxons of 
the coast of Germany, were more closely akin than other Germjinh 
tribes ^Yere to the Cheruscan Saxons : thirdly, that the Old Saxons^- 
were almost exterminated by Charlemagne ; fourthly, that the 
Anglo-Saxons are oiir immediate ancestors. The last of these may 
be assumed as i\n axiom in English history. The proofs of -the 
other three are partly philological and partly historical. I have 
not space to go into them here, but they will be found in the early 
chapters of the great work of my friend, Pr. Eobert Gordon La- 
tham, on the "English Langiiage," and in the notes to his forth- 
coming edition of the * "Germania of TacitiTs. " It may be, however, 
here remarked, that the present Saxons of Germany are of the 
High Germanic division of the German race, whereas both the 
Anglo-Saxon and Old Saxon wore of the Low Germanic. 

Being thus the nearest heirs of the glory of Arminius, we may 
fairly devote more attention to his career than, in stich a work as 
the present, could be allowed to any individual loader : and it is 
interesting to trace how far his fame survived during the Middle 
Ages, both among the Germans of the Continent and among our- 
selves. 

It seems probable that the jealousy with which Mareboduus, the 
king of the Suevi and Marcomanni, regarded Arminiiis, and which 
ultimately broke oiit into open hostilities between those German 
tribes and theCherusci, prevented Arminius from leading the con- 
federate Germans to attack Italy after his tirst victoi-y. Perhaps he 
may have had the rare moderation of being content with the lib- 
eration of his country, without seeking to retaliate on her former 
oppressors. "When Tiberias marched into Germany in the year 
10, Arminius was too caTitious to attack him on ground favorable 
to the legions, and Tiberias was too skilful to entangle his troops 
in the dithcult parts of the country. His march and countermarch 
were as unresisted as they were unproductive. A few years later, 
when a dangerous revolt of the Koman legions near the frontier 
caused their generals to find them active employment by leading 
them into the interior of Germany, we find Arminius again active 
in his country's defense. The old quarrel between him and his 
father-in-law,' Segestes, had broken out afresh. Segestes now 
called in the aid of the Roman general, Germanicus, to whom he 
surrendered himself ; and by his c-ontrivance, his daughter Thus- / 



ATiMlNim. 117 

nelfla, the wife of Arminius, ajso came into the hands of the Ito-' 
muns, })(ihi(^ fur uflvancr^d in pr';{.;iiuncy. Rhe showed, an Tacitus 
relates,* more of tJie spirit of her husband than of her father, a 
spirit that couhl not he suhdued into tears or supplications. She 
■was sent to llavf-nna, and there ^^ave hirth tf> a son. whose life wo 
know from an allusion in Tacitus, to have been eventful and un- 
happy ; hut the part of the great liistorian's work which narrated 
his fate has perished, and we only know from another rpiarter 
that the son of Aruiinius was, at the age of four years, led captive 
in a triumphal page-ant along the streets of Home. 

The high spirit of Arminius was goad';d almost into phrensy by | 
these bereavements. 'J'he fate of his wife, thus torn from him, and 
of his babe doomed to bondage even before its birth, inflamed the 
eloquent invectives with which he roused his countrymen against 
the home-traitors, and against their invaders, who thus made war 
upon wom^n and children. Txermanicus had marched his army 
to the place where Varus had perished, and had there j^aid funeral 
honors to the ghastly relics of his predecessor's legions that he 
found heaped around him.f Arminius lured him lo advance a 
little further into the country, and then assailed him, and fought a 
battle, which, by the llornan accounts, wafyi drawn one. The effect 
of it was to njake Gernjanicus resolve on retreating to the iJhine. 
He himself, with i)art of liis troops, emVjarked in some vessels on 
the Ems, and returned by that river, and then by sea ; but part of 
his forces were intrusted to a Iloman general named (.'secina, to 
lead them back by land to the Bhine, Arminius followed this 
division on its march, and fought several battles with it, in which 
ha inflicted heavy loss on the liomans, captured the greater part 
of their baggage, and would have destroyed them completely, had 
not his skilful system of operations Ijoen finally thwarted by the 
haste of Jnguiomerus, a confederate German chief, who insisted 
on assaulting the liomans in their camp, instead of waiting till they 
were entangled in the difhculties of the country, and assailing 
their columns on the march. 

In the following year the Romans were inactive, but in the year 
afterward Germanicus led a fresh invasion. He placed his army 
on shipboard, and sailed to the mouth of the Ems, where he dis- 
embarked, and marched to the Weser, where he encamped, prob- 
aljly in the neighborhood of Minden. Arminius had collected his 
army on the other side of the river ; and a scene occurred, which 
is jjowerfully told by Tacitus, and which is the subject of a beau- 
tiful poem by VvjA. It has been already mentioned that the 
brother of Arminius, like himself, had been trained up while young 

* " Ann.,"l.,.')7, 

t In the Musfjurri of Rhenish Antiquities at Bonn there Is a Roman sfj- 
pulchral monument, the Inscription on wlilch records that It waa erecWd 
to tke memory of M. Ocellus, wUo fell " iiello Vwriano, 



11^ DECISIVE BATTLES. 

to serve in flio Korean armies ; but, unlike Arminius, lie not only 
refused to quit the Koman service fpr that of his country, but 
fought against his country -u-ith the legions of Germanicus. He 
had assumed the Eomr.n name of Flavius, and had gained consid- 
erable distinction in the Koman service, in which he had lost an 
eye from a wound in battle. When the Eoman outposts ap- 
proached the Elver Weser, Arminius called out to them from the 
opposite bank, and expressed a wish to see his brother. Flavins 
stepped forward, and Arminius ordered his own followers to 
retire, and requested that the archers should be removed from the 
Eoman bank of the river. This was done; and the brothers, who 
apparently had not seen each other for some years, began a con- 
versation from the opposite side of the stream, in which Arminius 
questioned his brother respecting the loss of his eye, and what 
battle it had been lost in, and what reward he had received for 
his wound. Flavins told him how the eye was lost, and men- 
tioned the increased pay that he had on account of its loss, and 
showed the collar and other military decorations that had been 
given him. Arminius mocked at these as badges of slavery ; and 
then each began to try to win the other over. Flavins boasting 
the power of Eome, and her generosity to the submissive • Ar- 
minius appealing to him in the name of their country's gods, of 
the mother that had borne them, and by the holy names of father- 
land and freedom, not to prefer being the betrayer to being the 
champion of his country. They soon proceeded to mutual taunts 
and menaces, and Flavins called aloud for his horse and his arms, 
that he might dash across tho river and attack his brother ; nor 
would he have been checked ^rom doing so, had not the Eoman 
general Stertinius run up to him and forcibly detained him. Ar- 
minius stood on the other uank threatening the renegade, and 
defying him to battle. 

I shall not be thought to need apology for quoting here the 
stanzas in which Praed has described this scene — a scene among 
the most affecting, as well as the most striking, that history sup- 
plies. It makes us reflect on the desolate position of Arminius, 
with his wife and child captives in the enemy's hands, and with 
his brother a renegade in arms against him. The great liberator 
of our German race was there, with every source of human happi- 
ness denied him except the consciousness of doing his duty to his 
country. 

Back, back ! he fears not foaming flood 

Wlio fears not steel-clad line : 
No warrior tliou of German blood, 

No brother thou of mine. 
Go, earn Home's chain to load thy neck, 

Her gems to deck thy hilt ; 
And blazon honor's hapless wreck 

WitH all the gauds of gilt. 



Arminius m 

j5ut wouldst thou have me share the prey? 

By all that I have done, 
The Varian hones that day hy day 

Lie whitening In the sun, 
The legion's trampled panoply, 
' The eagle's shatter'd wing— 

I would not he for earth or sky 

So scorn'd and mean a thing. 

Ho, call me here the wizard, boy, 

Of dark and subtle skill. 
To agonize hut not destroy, 

To torture, not to kill. 
When swords are out, and shriek and shout 

Leave little room for prayer, 
' No fetter on man's arm or heart 

Hangs half so heavy there. 

I curse him hy the gifts the land 

Hath won from him and Rome, 
The riving axe, the wasting hrand 

Kent forest, blazing home. 
I curse him by our country's gods, 

The terrible, the dark, 
The breakers of the Roman rods, 

The smiters of the bark. 

Oh, misery that such a ban 

On such a brow should be ! 
Why comes he QOt in battle's yan 

His cr mtry 's chief to be ? 
To stand a comrade by my side. 

The sharer of my fame. 
And worthy of a brother's pride 

And of a brother's name ? 

But it is past ! where heroes press 

And cowards bend the knee, 
Arminius is not brotherless, 

His brethren are the free. 
They come around : one hour, and light 
. Will fade from turf and tide, 
Then onward, onward to the fight. 

With darkness for our guide. 

To-night, to-night, when we shall meet 

In combat face to face, 
Then only would Arminius greet 

The renegade's embrace. 
The canker of Rome's guilt shall be 

Upon his dying name ; 
And as he lived in slavery. 

So shall he fall In shame. 

<>i tlie day after the Eomans had reached the Weser, Gemani* 
cus ^^d his army across that river, and a partial encounter took 
place, in which Arminius was successful. But on the succeeding 
day a general action was fought, in which Arminius was severely 



120 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

wonnclecl, and the German infantry routed -^-itli heavy loss. The 
horscuun of tlie two tiruiies oncoiintered, without either party 
gaining the advantage. But the lioman army remained master of 
the ground, and chiimed a comph^te victory. Germanicus erected 
a trophy in the tieki, Math a vaiinting inscription, that the nations 
between the Khine and the Elbe had been thoroughly conquered 
by his army. But that army speedily made a hnal retreat to the 
left bank of the Khine; nor ^Yas the effect of their campaign more 
diirable than their trophy. The sarcasm with which Tacitus 
speaks of certain other triumphs of Eoman generals over Germans 
may apply to the pageant which Germanicus celebrated on his re- 
turn to Kome from his command of the Koman army of the Hhine. 
The Germans were " triumpliais p^ins quam vicii.'' 

After the Eomans had abandoned their attempts on Germany, 
we find Arminius engaged in hostilities with Maroboduus, the 
king of the Suevi and Marcomanni, who was endeavoring to bring 
the other German tribes into a state of dependency on him. Ar- 
minius was at the head of the Germans who took up arms against 
this home invader of their liberties. After some minor engage- 
ments, a pitched battle was fought between the two confederacies, 
A. D. 19, in which the loss on each side was equal, but Maroboduus 
confessed the ascendency of his antagonist by avoiding a renewal 
of the engagement, and by imploring the intervention of the Eo- 
mans in his defense. The younger Drusus then commanded the 
lioman legions in the province of Illyricum, and by his mediation 
a peace was concluded between Arminius and Maroboduus, by 
the terms of which it is evident that the latter must have renounced 
his ambitious schemes against the freedom oi the other German 
tribes . 

Arminius did not long survive this second war of independence, 
which he successfully waged for his country. He was assassinated 
in the thirty-seventh year of his age by some of his own kiusmen, 
who conspired against him, Tacitiis says that this happened 
while he was engaged in a civil war, which had been caused by his 
attempts to make himself king over his countrymen. It is far more 
probable (as one of the best biographers* has observed) that Taci- 
tus misunderstood an attempt of Arminius to extend hisintiuence 
as elective war-chiel'tain of the Cherusci, and other tribt*s, for an 
attempt to obtain the royal dignity. When we remember that his 
father-in-law and his brother were renegades, we can well under- 
stand that a party among his kinsmen may have been bitterly hos- 
tile to him, and have opposed his authority with the tribe by open 
violence, and, when that seemed ineffectual, by secret assassina- 
tion. 

Arminius left a name which the historians of the nation against 

* Dr. Plate, in " Blograplilcal Dictionaiy," commenced by tlie Society 
lor tlie Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



AUMimUS. 121 

■whicli lie combated so If ng and so gloriously have delighted to 
honor. It is from the most indisputable source, from the lips of 
enemies that we know his exploits.* His countrymen made his- 
tory, but did not write it. But his memory lived among them in 
the lays of their bards, who recorded 

Tlie deeds he did, the fields ha won, 
The freedom he restored. 

Tacitus, writing years after the death of Arminius, says of him, 
" Canitur adhue barbaras apud ,gentes." As time passed on, the 
gratitude of ancient Germany to her great deliverer grew into ado- 
ration, and divine honors were paid for centuries to Arminius by 
every tribe of the Low Germanic division of the Teutonic races. 
The Irmin-sul, or the column of Herman, near Eresbergh, the 
mordern Stadtberg, was the chosen object of worship to the de- 
scendants of the GliexwA'.'i, the old Saxons, and in defense of 
which they fought most desperately against Charlemagne and his 
Christianized Franks, "Irmin, in the cloudy Olympus of Teu- 
tonic belief, appears as a king and a warrior ; and the pillar, the 
•Irmin-sul,' bearing the statue, and considered as the symbol of 
the deity, was the Palladium of the Saxon nation until the temple 
of Eresbergh was destroyed by Charlemagne, and the column itself 
transferred to the monastery of Corbey, where loerhaps a portion 
of the rude rock idol yet remains, covered by the ornaments of 
the Gothic era,"t Traces of the worship of Arminius are to be 
found among our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, after their settlement 
in this island. One of the four great highways was held to be 
under the protection of the deity, and was called the "Irmin 
street." The name Arminius is, of course, the mere Latinized 
form of "Herman," the name by which the hero and the deity 
were known by every man of Low German blood on either side of 
the German Sea. It means, etymologically, the "War-man," the 
"man of hosts." No other explanation of the worship of the 
" Irmin-sul," and of the name of the "Irmin street," is so satisfac- 
tory as that which connects them with the deified Arminius^ We 
know for certain of the existence of other columns of an analogous 
character. Thus there was the Eolandseule in North Germany^ 
there was a Thor-seule in Sweden, and (what is more important) 
there was an Athelstan-seule in Saxon England. | 

Th^re is at the present moment a song respecting the Irmin-sul' 
current in the bishopric of Minden, one version of which might 
seem only to refer to Charlemagne having pulled down the Irmin- 
sul. 

* See Tacitus, "Ann.," Uh. 11., sec. 88; Velleius Paterculus, lib. L., sec. 

118. 

t Palgrave on the " English Commonwealth," vol. 11. , p. 140. 

t See Lappenhurg's " Anglo-Saxons," p. 376. for nearly all the philo- 
logical and ethnographical lacts respecting Arminius, I am indebted to my 
trieuO, Dr. R. G. Latham. *- » v «v 



122 DECISIVE BATTLE!^ 

Ilerman, sla dermen, 
81a plpen, sla trummen, 
De Kaiser ulU kiimmeu, 
"Mot lianior \iu stan^eu, 
Will liermau upliaiigeu. 

Bnt there is another Tersion, which probably is the oldest, and 
which clearly refers to the great xVrminius. 

Un Herman slaiig dermen, 
Slaiig pipou, slaug Truminen ; 
l>e fui-suni sincl kanimen, 
Met all eren-iuannen 
Hel)t Varus iipliangen.* 

About ten centuries and a half after the demolition of the Irmin- 
Bul, and nearly eighteen after the death of Arminins, the modern 
Germans conceived the idea of rendering tardy homage to their 
great hero ; and accordingly, some eight or ten years ago, a general 
subscription was organized in Germany for the purpose of erecting 
on the Osnin^ — a conical mountain, which forms th.e> highest sum- 
mit of the Teutoberger Wald, and is eighteen hundred "feet above 
the level of the sea— a colossal bronze statue of Arminius. The 
statue was designed by Bandal. The hero was to stand uplifting 
a sword in his right hand, and looking toward the Ehine. The 
height of the statue was to be eighty feet from the base to the point 
of the sword, and was to stand on a circular Gothic temple ninety 
feet high, and supported by oak trees as cohimns. The mountain, 
where it was to be erected, is wild and stern, and overlooks the 
scene of the battle. It was calculated that the statute would be 
clearly visible at a distance of sixty miles. The temple is 
nearly finished, and the statue itself h.is been cast at the copper 
works at Lemgo. But there, through waul of funds to set it 
up, it has lain for some years, in disjoiited fragments, exposed 
to the mutilating homage of relic-seeking travelers. The idea 
of honoring a hero, who belongs to all Germany, is not one 
which the present rulers of that divided country have any wish to 
encoun\ge ; and the statue may long continxie to lie there, and pre- 
sent too true a type of the condition of Germany herself, f 

Surely this is an occasion in which Englishmen might well 
prove, by acts as well as words, that we also rank Arminius among 
our heroes. 

I have quoted the noble stanzas of one of our modern English 
poets on Arminius, and I will conclude this memoir with one of 
the odes of the great poet of modern Germany, Ivlopstock, on the 
victory to which we owe our freedom, and Arminius mainly owes 
his fame. Ivlopstock calls it the "Battle of Winfeld." The epi- 



* See Grimm, •• Deutsche isrytliologfie," 329. 

t On the subject of tills status, I must repeat an acknowledgment of mj 
ebli^fatious to my Mend, Mr. Henry Pearson. 



thfet of •• sister of Cannse " shows that Klopstook followed some 
cbronoiogers, according to whom Varus was defeated on the anni- 
versary of the day on which Pauius and Varro were defeated by 
HanniVjal. 

-^ONG OP TEIUMPH AFTEK THE VICTOEY OF HEEEMAN, THE DEUVEBEE 

OP GEEMANY FEOM THE EOMANS. 

FROM KLOPSTOCk's " HERMANN UND DIE FURSTEN. * 

Apposed to he sung hy a chorus 0/ Bards. 

A CHORUS. 

sister Of Cannse ! * WInfeld's t flght ! 
We saw thee wltti thy streaming, bloody hair. 
With flery eye. brl;,'h'o with the world's despair, 
Sweep by Walhalla's bards from out our sight. 

Herrman outspake : " Now Victory or.Death I '* 
The i^omans ..." Victory ! " 
And onwaid rushed their eagles with the cry. 
So ended the first day. 

" Victory or Death ! " began 
ThMi, nrst, the Koman chief ; and Herrman spake 
Not, but home-struck : the eaglesgnuttered— braka * 
So sped the second day. 

TWO CHOEUSES. 

And the third came ... the cry was " Flight or Death! 
Flight left they not for them who'd make them slavesr— 
Men who stab children ! flight for them I ... no I gravwl 
•• 'Twas their last day." 

TWO BAEDS. 

Yet spared they messengers : they came to Rome- 
How drooped the plume— the lance was left to trail , 
Down In the dust behind— their cheek was pale- 
So came the messengers to Bome. 

High In his hall the imperator sat— 

OctavianuH C'cesar Augustus sat. 

They filled up wlne-cups, wine-cups filled they up 

For him the hlghtest— wlne-cups filled they up 

For him the highest, Jove of all their state. 

The flutes of Lydia hushed before their voice,; 
Before the messengers— the ' Highest" sprimg— 
The godi against the marble pillars, wrung 



* The battle of Cannae, b.c, 216— Hannibal's victory over the Romans, 
t Wlnfeld— the probable site of the " Hemaan^chiadt;'^ see supra, 
i Auguatua waa worshipped as a deity in his lif etime. 



124 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

By tUo droad -words, strtklncr his brow, and thrioo 
Cried ho iiloud lu unguish. • ' Varus ! Varus \ 
Give back my legions, Varus I" 

And now the world-wtdo conquerors shrunk and feared 

For fathorluiid and homo. 

'I'ho lauoo to ralso ; and "nvonsj-st those false to Eome 

Tho dt\ith-lot rolled.* and still they shrunk and feared; 

"For sho hor face hath turned 

The victor g-oddoss," cried those cowards— (for aye 

lie It!)— "from Home and Romans, and her day 

Is done"— and still he mourned, 

And crlod aloud lu anguish. " Varus 1 Varus I 

Give back inj- leglousrvarus 1 "t 



Sykopsis of Events between Armintus's Victobt over Varus 
AND THE Battle of CnAiiONs. 

A. D. 43. The Eomans commence tlie conqiiest of Britain, Clau- 
dius being then Emperor of Rome. The popuhxtion of this ishind 
was then Celtic. In about forty years all the tribes south of the 
Clyde were siibdued, and their land made a Boman province. 

58-GO. Successful campaigns of the Boman general Corbule 
against the Barthians. 

04. First persecutions of the Christians at Borne under Nero. 

G8-70. Civil wars in the Boman world. The Emperors Nero, 
Galba, Otho, and Vitellius cut off successively by violent deaths. 
Vespasian becomes Emperor. 

70. Jerusalem destroyed by the Bomans under Titus. 

83. Futile attack of Domitian on the Germans. 

86. Beginning of tlie wars between the Bomans and the Dacians. 

98-117. Trajan emperor of Borne. Under him the empire ac- 
quires its greatest territorial extent by his conquests in Dacia and 
in the East. His successor, Hadrian, abandons the provinces be- 
yond the Euphrates which Trajan had conquered. 

138-180. Era of the Antonines. 

1G7-170. A long and desperate war between Borne and a great 
confederacy of the German nations. Marcus Antoninus at last 
succeeds in repelling them. 

192-107. Civil wars throughout the Boman world. Severus be- 
comes emperor. He relaxes the discipline of the soldiers. After 
his death in 211, the series of military insurrections, civil wars, 
and murders of emperors recommences. 

2'2(i. Artaxerxes (Ardisheer) overthrows the Parthian and restores 
the Persian kingdom in Asia. He attacks the Boman possessions 
in the East. 

* Bee .<ft(ivrn. p. 1R9. ^ 

t I have taken this translation from on anonymous writer in "Fnuer," 
two years a^. 



BATTLE OF CnALONR. 125 

250. TliG Goths invade the Eoman provinces. The Emperor 
Decius is defeated and slain by them. 

253-2G0. The Franks and Alemanni invade Gaul, Spain, and 
Africa. The Goths attack Asia Minor and Greece. The Persians 
conquer Armenia. Their king, Sapor, defeats the lloman Emperor 
Valerian, and takes him prisoner. G;eneral distress of the lloman 
empire. 

2G8-283. The Emperors Claudius, Aurelian, Tacitus, Probus, 
and Cams defeat the various enemies of Home, and restore order 
in the lloman state. 

285. Diocletian divides and reorganizes the Boman empire. 
After his abdication in 305 a fresh series of civil wars and confus- 
ion ensues. Constantino, the first Christian emperor, reunites the 
empire in 324. 

330. Constantino makes Constantinople the seat of empire instead 
of Eome. 

363. The Emperor Julian is killed in action against the Persians. 

364-375. The empire is again divided, Valentinian being Em- 
peror of the West, and Valcns of the East. Valentinian repulses 
the Alemanni, and other German invaders from Gaul. Splendor 
of the Gothic kingdom under Hermanric, north of the Danube. 

375-395. The Huns attack the Goths, who implore the protection 
of the Roman emperor of the East. The Goths are allowed to pass 
the Danube, and to settle in the Eoman provinces. A war soon 
breaks out between them and the Romans, and the Emperor Valens 
and his army are destroyed by them. They ravage the Roman 
territories. The Emperor Theodosius reduces them to submission. 
They retain settlements in Thrace and Asia Minor. 

395. Einal division of the Roman empire between Arcadius and 
Honorius, the two sons of Theodosius. The Goths revolt, and under 
Alaric attack various parts of both the Roman empires. 

410. Alaric takes the city of Rome. 

412. The Goths march into Gaul, and in 414 into Spain, which 
had been invaded by hosts of Vandals, Suevi, Alani, and other 
Germanic nations. Britain is formally abandoned by the Roman 
empire of the West. 

428. Gens^ri(^ king of the Vandals, conquers the Roman province 
©f North Africa. 

441, The Huns attack the Eastern empire. 



CHAPTER VL 

THE BATTLE OP CHALONS, A. D. 451. 

The discomfiture of the mighty attempt of Attllato found a new ant?- 
Chrlstlan dynasty upon the wreck of the temporal power of Rome, at the 



12« DECISIVE BATTLES. 

end of tl\e term of tTwolve liimdred years, to wlileli Its duration had been 
limited by the forebodings of the heathen.—HKRBEUT.; 

A PTjoAT) expanse of plains, the Canipi Catalannici of the an- 
cients, spreads far and wide around the oily of Chalons, m the 
northeast of Franoo. The loni:; rows of po}ilars, through which the 
Ivivor Marne ^Yinds its way. and a few thinly-scattered villages, are 
almost the only objects that vary the monotonous aspect of the 
greater part of til is region. But about live miles from Chalons, 
near the little hamlets of Chape and Cuperly, the ground is in- 
dented and heaped up in ranges of grassy mounds and trenches, 
which attest the work of nu\n's hands in ages past, and which, to 
the practiced eye, demonstrate that this (juiet spot has once been 
the Ibrtified position of a huge military Lost. 

Local tradition gives to these ancient earth-works the name of 
Atlila's Camp. Nor is there any reason to question the correctness 
of the title, or to doubt that behind these very ramparts it was 
that 1400 years ago the most powerful heathen king that ever ruled 
in Europe mustered the remnants of his vast army, which had 
striven on these plains against the Christian soldiery of Thoulouse 
and Kome. Here it was tliat Attila prepared to resist to the death 
his victors in the tield ; and here he heaped up the treasures of 
his camp into one vast pile, which was to be his funeral pyre 
slionld his camp be stormed. It was here that the Gtithio and 
1 alian forces watched, but dared not assail their enemy in his 
despair, after that great and terrible day of battle when 

'• The sound 
Of eonfllot was o"en->ast, the shout of all 
Whoui earth could send ironi her remotest bounds, v 

Heathen or faithful : fioiu thy hundred mouths. 
That feed the Caspian with Hlphean snows. 
Huge Volga! from famed nypauls. which once 
Cradled .the Hun : from all the countless realms 
Between I mans and that utmost strand 
Whei"e columns of Herculean rwk confront 
The blown Atlantic ; Koman. Goth, and Hun. 
And Scythtan stivngth of chivalry, that ti-ead 
The cold Codanlan shore, or what far hmds 
Inhospitable drink (.'Inuuerlan Hoods, 
Franks. Saxons, ^uevlc, and Sarmat Ian chiefs, 
And who fivm irreen Armortca or bpalu 
Flocked to the work of death."* 

The victory which the Eoman general, Aetius, with his Gothio 
allies, had then gained over the Huns, was the last victory of im- 
perial Kome. But among the long Fasti of her triumphs, few can 
be found that for their importance and ultimate benefit to mjuikind, 
are compamble with this expiring effort of her arms. It did not^ 
indeed, open to her any new career of conquest — it did not consoli- 

* Herberts "Attila," book 1., Une 13. 



BATTLE OF CIIALOm. 127 

date the relics of her power — it did not turn the rapid ebb of her 
fortunes. The mission of imperial Eome was, in truth, already 
accomplished. She had received and transmitted through her once 
ample dominion the civilization of Gr^^ece. bhe had broken up 
the barriers of narrow nationalities among the various states and 
tribes that dwelt around the coasts of the Mediterrannean. She had 
fused these and many other races into one organized emjnre, bound 
together by a community of laws, of government, and institutions. 
Under the shelter of her full poWer the True Faith had arisen in 
the earth, and during the years of her decline it had been nour- 
ished to maturity, it had overspread all the provinces that ever 
obeyed her sway.* For no beneficial jjurpose to mankind could 
the dominion of the seven-hilled city have been restored or \jvo- 
longed. But it was all-important to mankind what nations should 
divide among them Rome's rich inheritance of emjjire. Whether, 
the Germanic and Gothic warriors should form states and king- 
doms out of the fragments of her dominions, and become the free 
members of the commonwealth of Christian Europe ; or whether 
pagan savages from the wilds of Central Asia, should crush the 
relics of classic civilization and the early institutions of the 
Christianized Germans in one hopeless chaos of barbaric con- 
quest. The Christian Visigoths of King Theodoric fought and 
triumphed at Chalons side by side witli tlie h gions of Aetius. 
Their joint victory over the Hunnish host not only rescued for a 
time from destruction the old age of Rome, but preserved for cen- 
turies of power and glory the Germanic element in the civilization 
of modern Europe. 

In order to estimate the full importance to mankind of the battle 
of Chalons, we must keep steadily in mind who and what the Ger- 
mans were, and the important distinctions between them and the 
numerous other races that assailed the Rouian empire ; and it is to 
be understood that the Gothic and Scandinavian nations are in- 
cluded in the German race. Now, "in two remarkable traits, the 
Germans differed from the Sarmatic as well as from the Slavic na- 
tions, and, indeed, from all those other races to whom the Greeks 
and Romans gave the designation of barbarians. I allude to their 
personal freedom and regard for the rights of men ; secondly, to the 
respect jiaid by them to the female sex, and the chastity for which 
the latter were celebrated among the people of the North. These 
were the foundations of that probity of character, self-respect, and 
purity of manners which may be traced among the Germans and 
Goths even during pagan times, and which, when their sentiments 
were enlightened by Christianity, brought out those splendid 
traits of character which distinguish the age of chivalry and ro- 
mance,"! What the intermixture of the German stock with the 

* See the Introduction to Ranke's " History of the Popes." 
t See Prichard'a " Kesearches into the Phybical History of Man," voL ill., 
p. 4i:3. 



J28 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

classic, at the fall of the Western empire, has done for mankind, 
may be best folc by watching, with Arnoki, over how hirgo a por- 
tion of the earth the intiuence of the German element is now ex- 
tended. 

'• It aifects, more or less, the whole west of Europe, from the 
head of the Gulf of Bothnia to the most soiTthern promontory of 
Sicily, from the Oder and the Adriatic to the Hebrides and to Lis- 
bon. It is true that the language spoken over a large portion of 
this space is not predominantly German ; biit even in France, and 
Italy, and Spain, the iutluence of the Franks, Burgundians, Visi- 
goths, Ostrogoths, and Loiubards, while it has colored even the 
language, has in blood and institutions left its mark legibly and 
indelibly, Germany, the Low countries, Switzerland for the most 
part, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden; and our own islands, are all 
in language, in blood, and in institutions, German most decidely. 
But all South America is peopled with Spaniards and Portuguese; 
all North America, and all Australia, with Englishmen. I say 
nothing of the prospects and intiuence of the German race in 
Africa and in India: it is enough to say that half of Europe, and all 
America and Australia, are German, more or less completely, in 
race, in language, or in institutions, or in all."* 

By the middle of the iifth century, Germanic nations had settled 
themselves in manj^ of the fairest regions of the Eoman empire- 
had imposed their yoke on the provincials, and had undergone, 
to a considerable extent, that moral conquest which the arts and 
refinements of the vanquished in arms have so often achieved over 
the rough victor. The Visigoths held the north of Spain, and 
Gaul south of the Loire. Franks, Alemanni, Alans, and Burgun- 
dians had established themselves in other Gallic provinces, and the 
Suevi were masters of a large southern portion of the Spanish 
peninsula. A king of the Vandals reigned in North Africa ; and 
the OstrogoHes had firmly planted themselves in the provinces 
north of Italy. Of these powers and principalities, that of the 
Visigoths, under their king Theodoric, son of Alaric, was by far 
the first in power and in civilization. 

The pressure of the Huns upon Europe had first been felt in the 
fourth century of our era. They had long been formidable to the 
Chinese empire, but the ascendency in arms which another 
nomadic tribe of Central Asia, the Si enpi, gained over them, drove 
the Huns from their Chinese conquests westward ; and this move-/ 
ment once being communicated to the whole chain of barbaric/ 
nations that dwelt northward of the Black Sea and the Eoman( 
empire, tribe after tribe of savage warriors broke in upon the bar- 
riers of civilized Europe, "Velut iinda supervenit undam." The 
Huns crossed the Tanais into Europe in 375 and rapidly reduced 
to subjection the Alans, the Ostrogoths, and other tribes that 

* Arnold's " Lectures on Modern History," p. 35. 



BATTLE OF CIIALOXS. 129 

Trere then dwelling along the course of the Danube. The armies 
of the Koman emperor that tried to check their progress were cut 
to pieces by them, and Pannoriia and other jjrovinces south of the 
Danube wore speedily occujjied by the victorious cavalry of these 
new invaders. Not merely the degenerate Eomans, but the bold 
and hardy warriors of Germany and Scandinavia, were appalled at 
the number, the ferocity, the ghastly ai)pearance and the lightning- 
like rapidity of the Huns. Strange and loathsome legends were 
coined and credited, which attributed their origin to the union of 

" Secret, black, and midnlglit hags," 

with the evil spirits of the wilderness. 

Tribe after tribe, and city after city, fell before them. Then 
came a pause in their career of conquest in southwestern Europe, 
caused probably by dissensions among their chiefs, and also by 
their arms being employed in attacks ujjon the Scandinavian na- 
tions. But when Attila i^or Atzel, as he is called in the Hungarian 
language) became their ruler, the torrent of their arms was 
directed with augmented terrors upon the west and the south, and 
their myriads marched beneath the guidance of one master-mind 
to the overthrow both of the new and the old powers of the earth. 
Eecent events have thrown such a strong interest over every 
thing connected with the Hungarian name, that even the terrible 
renown of Attila now impresses us the more vividly through our 
sympathizing admiration of the exploits of those who claim to be 
descended from his warriors, and '*ambitiously insert the name 
of Attila among their native kings." The authenticity of this mar- 
tial genealogy is denied by some writers and questioned by more. 
13ut it is at least certain that the Magyaar of Arpad, who are the 
immediate ancestors of the bulk of the modern Hungarians, and 
who conquered the country which bears the name of Hungary in 
A.D. 889, were of the same stock of mankind as were the Huns of 
Attila, even if they did not belong to the same subdivision of that 
stock. Nor is there any improbability in the tradition that after 
Attila's death many of his warriors remained in Hungary, and that 
their descendants afterward joined the Huns of Arpad in their 
career of conquest. It is certain that Attila made Hungary the 
seat of his emxjire. It seems also susceptible of clear proof that 
the territory was then called Hungvar and Attila's soldiers Hung- 
vari. Both the Huns of Attila and those of Arpad came from the 
family of nomadic nations whose primitive regions were those vast 
wildernesses of High Asia which are included between the Altaic 
and the Himalayan mountain chains. The inroads of these tribes 
upon the lower regions of Asia and into Europe have caused many 
of thf^ most remarkable revolutions in the history of the world. 
There is every reason to believe that swarms of these nations 
made their way into distant parts of the earth, at periods long 
before the date of he Scythian invasion of Asia, which is the earliest 



130 DECISI I •£ BA TTLES, 

inrond of tho nomadic moo that history reoonls. Tho first, as far as 
Avo oiuv ooiv^iooturo. in rospoot to tho tiiuo of tlioir doscoiit, Nvoro the 
Finnish and ligvitin tribos, Nvho appoavto luvvo oouio down from the 
Altaic border of High Asia towanl tho noithwost, in which direc- 
tion thoy advanced to tho Ih-alian JMount^iins. There thoy t>stab- 
lishod tlicuisolvos ; and that mountain chain, with its valleys lUid 
pasture lands, became to them a new eountry. whence thoy sent 
ont colonies on t^very side: but the Vi»ii;;n ei>lon,v, which, nmlor 
Arpad, occupied lluni^avy, and became tho ancestors of tho bulk 
of the present Hunii;arian nation, did not quit their setdenunts 
on the Tralian Mouutaius till a very bite ]Hn-iod, and not until 
foxir cent\irios after tho time when Attila led from the primary 
seats of tho xiomadic races in High Asia the host with which ho 
advanced into the heart of France.* That host was Turkish, but 
closely allied in origin, hmguage, and habits with tho Finno-Ugrian 
Bottlers on the Tral. 

Attila's fan\e has not come down to ns through the partial and 
suspicious niodiiTui of chronichn's and poets of his own race. It is 
not from llunnish authorities that we learn tho extent of his might : 
it is from his enemies, from tho literal \iro and the legends of the 
nations whom ho atHicted with his avuis, that we draw tho nnques- 
tionable evidence of his greatness. Ix^sidos the express narratives 
of l>y/.antine, Ijatin, and (u>thic writers, we have tho strongest 
proof of the stern reality of Attila's conquests in the extent to 
which he and his Huns have been the themes of the earliest Ger- 
man and Scandinavian lays. ^Vild as many of those legends are, 
they bear coneurrent and certain testiuiouy to the awo with which 
the'memory of Attila was regarded by tho bold warrioi*s who com- 
posed and delighted in them. Attila's exploits, and the wonders 
of his unearthly steel and magic sword, repeatedly oceur in the 
8agas of Norway and Iceland : and the celebrated Niebelungen 
Lied, the most ancient of Clermanic pt^etry, is full of them. There 
Etsel, or Attila, is described as tiu> wearer of twelve mighty crowns, 
and as promising to his bride the lands of thirty kings whom his 
irresistible sword had suhdued. He is, in fact, the hero of the 
latter part of this remarkable poem ; and it is at his capital city, 
Etselenbnrgh. wliieh evidently corrospoiids to the modern Buda, 
that much of its action takes place. 

When we turn from the legendary to the historic Attila, we see 
clearly that he was not one of tho vulgar herd of barbaric eon- 
qneroVs. Oonsummate military skill may bo traced in his cam- 
paigns: and ho relied far less on the brute force of armies for the 
aggrandi/ement of his em]ure, than on the nnbounded intluence 
over tho ati'ections of friends and the fears of foes which his geniua 
enabled him to acquire. Austerely sober in his private lift> — 
severely just on the judgment seat— conspicuous among a nation 
- ^ I —————«— ———.^—— _— 

* See Piltchanl's " Researches into the riiyslcal Illstorj' or MarJtlnd." 



BATTLE OF CHALONS. 131 

M warrioTR for hardihood, strength, and skill in every martial 
exeroiHo — j>rave and dolibcrato in counHol, hut ray^id and romorse- 
leHwin oxocution, ho f^avo wafV^ty and Bocurity to all who were under 
hlH dominion, while he waged a warfare of extermination a{/ainst 
all who ')i)i>f)HcA or Houglit to escape from it. He watched the 
national puHKions, the prejudiccH, the crecdn, and the superBtitions 
of tlje varied nationw over which he ruled, and of thoHe which he 
sought to reduce beneath his sway : all these feelings he had the 
skill to turn to his own account. His own warriors believed him 
to })(i the inspired favorite of their deities, and followed him withl 
fanatic zeal ; his enemies looked on him as the pre-apjjointed mini»-( 
ter of heaven's wrat?i against themselves ; and though they believed 
not in his creed, their own made them tremble before him. 

in one of Ids early campaigns he apyjeared before his troops with 
an ancient iron sword in his grasy>, which he told them was the 
god of war whom their ancestors had worshipped. It is certain that 
the nomadic tribes of Northern Asia, whom Herodotus described 
under the name of Scythians, from the earliest times worshipped 
as their god a bare sword. That sword-god was supjjosed, in 
Attila's time, to have disappeared from earth ; but the Hunnish 
king now claimed to have received it by special revelation. It was 
said that a herdsman, who was tracking in the desert a wounded 
heifer by the drops of blood, found the mysterious sword standing 
fixed in the ground, as if it had darted down from heaven. The 
herdsman bore it to Attila, who thenceforth was believed by the 
Huns to wield the Si>irit of Death in battle, and their seers proy^h- 
esied that that sword was to destroy the world. A Roman,* who 
was on an embassy to the Hunnish camp, recorded in his memoirs 
Attila's acquisition of this supernatural weapon, and the immense 
influence over the minds of thebarlmric tribes which its possession 
gave him. In the title which he assumed we shall see the skill 
with which he availed himself of the legf-nds and creeds of other 
nations as well as of his own. He designated himself "Attica, 
Descendant of the Great Nimrod. Nurtured in Engaddi. By the 
Grace of God, King of the Huns, the Goths, the Danes, and the 
Medes. The Dread of the World." 

Herbert states that Attila is represented on an old medallion with a 
Teraphim, or a head, on his breast ; and the same writer adds, "We 
know, from t?ie 'Hamartigenea' of Prudentius, that Nimrod, with 
a snaky-haired head, was the object of adoration of the heretical 
followers of Marcion ; and the same head was the palladium set 
up }>y Antiochus Epiphanes over the gates of Antioch, though it 
has been called the visage of Charon. The memory of Nimrod 
was certainly regarded with mystic veneration by many ; and by 
asserting himself to be the heir of that mighty hunter before 
the Lord, he vindicated to himself at least the whole Babylonian 
kingdom. 

* Prlscus upud Jornandem. 



132 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

" The sing-ala?* assertion in his style, that he "was nnrtured in 
Engaddi, where he certainly had never been, will be more easily 
nrderstood on reference to the twelfth chapter of the Book of Eev- 
elations, concerning the woman clothed with the sun, who was to 
bring forth in the wilderness 'where she hath a place prepared of 
God' — a man-child, who was to contend with the dragon having 
seven heads and ten horns, and rule all nations with a rod of iron. 
This projjhecy was at that time understood universally by the sin- 
cere Christians to refer to the birth of Constantine, who was to 
overwhelm the paganism of the city on the seven hills and it is 
still so explained ; but it is evident that the heathens must have 
looked on it in a difterent light, and regarded it as a foretelling of 
the birth of that Great One who should master the temporal power 
of Eome. The assertion, therefore, that he was nurtured in 
Engaddi, is a claim to be looked upon as that man-child who was 
to be brought forth in a place prepared of God in the wilderness. 
Engaddi means a place of palms and vines in the desert ; it was 
hard by Zoar, the city of refuge, which was saved in the Vale of 
Siddim, of Demons, when the rest were destroyed by fire and 
brimstone from the Lord in heaven, and might, therefore, be 
especially called a place prepared of God in the wilderness." 

It is obvious enough why he styled himself "By the Grace of 
Grod, King of the Huns and Goths ; " and it seems far from difficult 
to see why he added the names of the Medes and the D; :ies. His 
armies had been engaged in warfare against the Persian kingdom 
of the SassanidjB, and it is certain* that he meditated the invasion 
€tnd overthrow of the Medo-Persian power. Probably some of the 
northern provinces of that kingdom had been compelled to pay 
him tribute; and this would account for his styling himself King 
of the Medes, they being his remotest subjects to the south. From 
a similar cause, he may have called himself King of the Danes, as 
his power may well have extended northward as far as the nearest 
of the Scandinavian nations, and this mention of Medes and 
Danes as his subjects would serve at once to indicate the vast ex- 
tent of his dominioUj^t 

The immense terrifory north of the Danube and Black Sea and 
eastward of Caucasus, over which Attila ruled, first in conjunction 
with his brother Bleda, and afterward alone, cannot be very ac- 
curately defined, but it must have comprised within it, besides 
the Huns, many nations of Slavic, Gothic, Teutonic, and "Finnish 
origin. South also of the Danube, the country, from the Eiver 
Sau as far as Novi in Thrace, was a Hunnish province. Such was 
the empire of the Huns in a.d. 445 ; a memorable year, in which 

* ■■ rp tlie rarrative of Priscus. 

t In llie " MebeluDgtn Lied," tlie old poet who descrllDes ttie reception of 
the 1 eicine i linmliild ty Attila [Ltseli. says tliat Attila's dominiors were 
so vr?t, trrt rmcnglnssiibject-v.anioistliere were Russian, Greek, \\ai" 
lacliiaii, 1 olisli, and even Danish knights; 



BATTLE OF CHALONS. 133 

Attila founded Buda on the Danube as his capital city, and ridded 
himself of his brother by a crime which seems to have been 
prompted not only by selfish ambition, but also by a desire of 
turning to his purpose the legends and forebodings which then 
were universally spread throughout the Eoman empire, and must 
have been well known to the watchful and ruthless Hun. 

The year 445 of our era comi)leted the twelfth century from the 
foundation of Eome, according to the best chronologers. It had 
always been believed among the Romans that the twelve vultures, 
which were said to have appeared to Eomulus when he founded 
the cit}^ signified the time during which the Eoman power should 
endure. The twelve vultures denoted twelve centuries. This in- 
terpretation of the vision of the birds of destiny was current 
among learned Romans, even when there was yet many of thb 
twelve centuries to run, and while the imperial city was at ths 
zenith of its power. But as the allotted time drew nearer and 
nearer to its conclusion, and as Rome grew weaker and weaker 
beneath the blows of barbaric invaders, the terrible omen was more 
and more talked and thought of ; and in Attila's time, men 
watched for the momentary extinction of the Roman state with the 
last beat of the last vulture's wing. Moreover, among the numer- 
ous legends connected with the foundation of the city, and the 
fratricidal death of Remus, there was one most terrible one, which 
told that Romulus did not put his brother to death in accident or 
in hasty quarrel, but that 

.*' He slew Ms gallant twhi 
Witli inexpiable sin," 

deliberately, and in compliance with the warnings of supernatural 
power. The shedding of a brother's blood was believed to have 
been the price at which the founder of Rome had j^urchased from 
destiny her twelve centuries df existence.* 

We may imagine, therefore, with what terror in this, the twelve 
hundredth year after the foundation of Rome, the inhabitants of 
the Roman empire must have heard the tidings that the royal 
brethren, Attila and Bleda, had founded a new capital on the 
Danube, which was designed to rule over the ancient capital on 
t'le Tiber ; and that Attila, like Romulus, had consecrated the 
foundations of his new city by murdering his brother; so that 
for the new cycle of centuries then about to commence, dominion 
had been bought from the gloomy spirits of destiny in favor of 
the Hun by a sacrifice of equal awe and value with that which had 
formerly obtained it for the Roman. 

It is to be remembered that not only the pagans, but also the 

* See a curious justlflcation of Attila for murdering- his hrotlier,' by a 
zealous Hungarian advocate, in tUe note to Pray's "Annales Htmnorum,'' 
p. 117. The example of Komulus is tne main authority quoted. 



134 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

Cliristians of tliat age, knew and "believed in these legends and 
omens, liowevor they might differ as to the nature of the super- 
human agency by which siich mysteries had been made known 
to mankind. And we may observe, with Herbert, a modern 
learned dignitary of our church, how remarkably this augury was 
fultilled; for "if to the twelve centuries denoted by the twelve 
vultures that appeared to Eomulus, we add for the six birds that 
appeared to llemus six lustra, or periods of live years each, by 
which the Eomans were wont to number their time, it brings us 
precisely to the year 470, in which the lloman empire was finally 
extinguished by Odoacer." 

An attempt to assassinate Attila, made, or supposed to have 
been made, at the instigation of Theodoric the younger, the Em- 
peror of Constantinople, drew the liunnish armies, in 4-15, upon 
the Eastern empire, and delayed for a time the destined blow 
against Home. Probably a more important cause of delay was the 
revolt of some of the Hunnish tribes to the north of the Black Sea 
against Attila, which broke out about this period, and is cursorily 
mentioned by the Byzantine writers. Attila qiielled this revolt, 
and having thus consolidated his power, and having piinished 
the presumi:)tion of the Eastern Roman emperor by fearful rav- 
:>^es of his fairest provinces, Attila, in 450 a.d., prepared to set 
Jas vast forces in motion for the conquest of Western Europe. He 
sought nnsuccessi'ully by diplomatic intrigues to detach the King 
of the Visigoths from his alliance with Ivome, and he resolved 
Urst to crush the power of Theodoric, and then to advance with 
overwhelming power to trample out the last sparks of the doomed 
Ivoman empire. 

A strange invitation from a lloman princess gave him a pretext 
for the war, and threw an air of chivalric enterprise over his inva- 
•sion. Honoria, sister of Valentinian III., the Emperor of the 
West, had sent to Attila to offer him her hand and her supposed 
right to share in the imperial power. This had been discovered 
by the Eomans, and Honoria had been forthwith closely impris- 
oned. Attila now pretended to take iip arms in behalf of his self- 
promised bride, and proclaimed that he was about to march to 
Rome to redress Honoria's wrongs. Ambition and spite against 
her brother must have been the sole motives that led the lady to 
woo the royal Hun; for Attila s face and pe^-son had all the natural 
ilgliness of his race, and the description given of him by a Byzan- 
tine embassador miist have been well known in the imperial 
courts. Herbert has well versihed the portrait drawn by Priscua 
of the great enemy of both Byzantium and Rome ; 

"Terrific was his semblance, In no mold 
Ot beautiful vroporti(^n cast ; liis limbs 
Notliiiii^ exalted, but with sinews braced 
Of Ohaiybanxu temper, agile, litlie, 
AM swifter than, the roe ; his imiple chest 



BATTLE OF CHALONS. 135 

Was overTjrow'fl by a gigantic hearj, 

Wltli (;.y<;8 keen, deeply sunk, arid small, that glcam'd 

Strangely In wrath as though some spirit unclean 

■W'ttUln tliat corporal tenement instalivi 

Look'd rrom its windows, but with tfimper'dflre 

Beam'd mildly on the unresisting. Thin 

His heard and hoary: his Hat nostrils crown'd 

A cicatrized, swart visage; hut, withal. 

That questionable shape such glory wore 

That mortals quail d beneath him." 

Two chiefs of the Franks, who were then settled on the Lower 
Bhine, were at this period engaged in a feud with each other, and 
while one of them aijpealed to the Komans for aid, the other in- 
vok^;d the assistance and j^rotection of the Huns. Attila thus ob- 
tained an ally whose co-operation secured for him the passage of 
the Khine, and it was this circumstance which caused him to take 
a northward route from Hungary for his attack upon Gaul. Tlie 
muster of the Hunnish hosts was swollen by warriors of every 
tribe that they had subjugated; nor is there any reason to susi)ect 
the old chroniclers of wilful exaggeration in estimating Attilas 
army at seven hundred thousand strong. Having crossed .th ) 
Bhine probably a little below Coblentz, he defeated the King of 
the Burgundians, who endeavored to bar his jjrogress.^ Het'ien 
divided his vast forces into two armies, one of which marched 
northwest upon Tongres and Arras, and the other cities of that 
part of France, while the main body, under Attila himself, ad- 
vanced up the Moselle, and destroyed Besan<jon and other towns 
in the country of the Burgundians. One of the latest and best 
biographers of Attila* well observes, that, "having thus conquered 
the eastern part of France, Attila prepared for an invasion of the 
West Gothic territories beyond the Loire. He marched upon Or- 
leans, where he intended to force the i)iissage of that river, and 
only a little attention is requisite to en-'il-ie us to perceive that he 
proceeded on a systematic plan: he had his right wing on the 
north for the protection of his Frfink allies; his left wing on the 
south for the purjKJse of preventiiig the Burgundians from rally- 
ing, and of menacing the passes oi the Alps fromltaly; and he led 
his center toward the chi. f olject of the campaign— the con- 
quest of Orleans, and an eosy })ashage into the West Gothic do- 
minion. The whole plan is very like that of the allied powers ir 
1814, with this difference, that their left wing entered I'runcc 
through the defiles of the Jura, in the direction of Lyons, an I 
that the military object 'of the campaign was the capture of Baris." 
It w^as not until the year 451 that the Huns commenced the siege 
of Orleans ; and during their campaign in Eastern Graul, the Bo- 
man general Aetius had strenuously exerted himself in collecting 
and organizing such an army as might, when united to the soldiery 

* Biographical Dictionary commenced by the Useful Knowledge Society 



136 ■ DECISIVE BATTLES. 

of the Yisigotlis, be fit to face tlie Huns in the field. He enlisted 
every subject of the Eoman empire whom patriotism, courage, or 
compulsion could collect beneath the standards ; and round these 
troops, which assumed :he once proud title of the legions of Home, 
he arrayed the large forces of barbaric auxiliaries, whom pay, per- 
suasion, or the general hate and dread of the Huns brought to the 
camp of the last of the Roman generals. King Theodoric exerted 
himself with equal energy. Orleans resisted her besiegers bravely 
as in after times. The passage of the Loire was skilfully defended 
against the Huns ; and Aetius and Theodoric, after much maneu- 
vering and ditiiculty, eflected a junction of their armies to the 
south of that important river. 

On the advance of the allies upon Orleans, Attila instantly broke 
up the siege of that city, and retreated toward the Marne, 'He did 
not choose to risk a decisive battle with only the central corps of 
his army against the combined power of his enemies, and he there- 
fore fell back upon his base of operations, calling in his wings from 
Arras and Besangon, and concentrating the whole of the Hunnish 
forces on the vast plains of Chalons-sur-Marne. A glance at the 
map will show how scientifically this place was chosen by the 
Hunnish general as the point for his scattered forces to converge 
upon ; and the nature of the ground was eminently favorable for 
the operations of cavalry, the arm in which Attila's strength pecu- 
liarly lay. 

It was during the retreat from Orleans that a Christian hermit is 
reported to have approached the Hunnish king, and said to him, 
"Thou art the Scourge of God for the chastisement of the Chris- 
tians." Attila instantly assumed this new title of terror, which 
thenceforth became the appellation by which he was most widely 
and ]nost fearfully known. 

The confederate armies of Romans and Visigoths at last met their 
great adversary face to foce on the ample battle-ground of the 
Chalons plains. Aetius commanded on the right of the allies ; 
King Theodoric on the left ; and Sangipan, king of the Alans, 
whose fidelity was suspected, was placed purposely in the center, 
rnd in the very front of the battle. Attila commanded his center 
in pei'son, at the head of his own countrymen, while the Ostro- 
goths, the GepidiB, and the other subject allies of the Huns 
were drawn up on the wings. Some maneuvering aj^pears to have 
occurred b«fore the engagement, in which Aetius had the advan- 
tage, inasmuch as he succeeded in occupying a sloping hill, which 
commanded the left flank of the Huns. Attila saw'the importance 
of the position taken by Aetius on the high ground, and commenced 
the battle by a furious attack on this part of the Roman line, in 
which he seems to have detached some of his best troops from his 
center to aid his left. The Romans, having the advantage of the 
groimd, repulsed the Huns, and while the allies gained this advan- 
tage on the right, their left, under King Theodoric, assailed the 



BATTLE OF ClIALOKS. 131 

Ostrogotlis, WHO formed the right of Attila's army. The gallant 
king was himself struck down by a javelin, as he rode onward at 
the head of his men ; and his own cavalry charging over him, 
trampled him to death in the confusion. But the Visigoths, infu- 
riated, not dispirited, by their monarch's fall, routed the enemies 
opposed to them, and then wheeled upon the flank of the Hunnish 
center, which had been engaged in a sanguinary and indecisive 
•on test with the Alans. 

' In this peril Attila made his center fall back upon his camp ; and 
when the shelter of its entrenchments and wagons had onc^ been 
gained, the Hunnish archers repulsed, without difla.culty, the 
charges of the vengeful Gothic cavalry. Aetius had not pressed 
the advantage which he gained on his side of the field, and when 
night fell over the wild scene of havoc, Attila's left was still unde- 
feated, but his right had been routed, and his center forced back 
upon his camp. 

Expecting an assault on the morrow, Attila stationed his best 
archers in front of the cars and wagons, which were drawn up as a 
fortification along his lines, and made every preparation for a 
desperate resistance. But the " Scourge of God " resolved that no 
man should boast of the honor of having either ca^Jtured or .lain 
him, and he caused to be raised in the center of his encampment a 
huge pyramid of the wooden saddles of his cavalry : round it he 
heaped the spoils and the wealth that he had won ; on it he sta- 
tioned his wives who had accompanied him in the campaign ; and 
on the summit Attila placed himself, ready to perish in the flames, 
and balk the victorious foe of their choicest booty, should they 
succeed in storming his defenses. 

But when the morning broke and revealed the extent of the car- 
nage with which the plains were heaped for miles, the successful 
allies saw also and respected the resolute attitude of their antagonist. 
Neither were any measures taken to blockade him in his camp, and 
80 to extort by famine that submission which it was too plainly 
perilous to enforce with the sword. Attila was allowed to march 
back the remnants of his army without molestation, and even with 
the semblance of success. 

It is probable that the crafty Aetius was unwilling to be too 
victorious. He dreaded the glory which his allies the Visigoths 
had acquired, and feared that Borne might find a second Aleric m 
Prince Thorismund, who had signalized himself in the battle, and 
had been chosen on the field to succeed his father Theodoric. He 
persuaded the young king to return at once to his capital, and 
thus relieved himself at the same time of the presence of a danger- 
ous friend, as well as of a formidable though beaten foe. 

Attila's attacks on the Western empire were soon renewed, but 
never with such peril to the civilized world as had menaced it 
before his defeat at Chalons ; and on his death two years after that 
battle, the vast empire which his genius had founded was soon dis- 



irS DECISIVE BATTLES. 

sev?rov"l by the successful revolts of the subject nations. The name 
oftho liuiis ceased fir some centuries to inspire terror in Western 
Europe, and their ascendency passed away with the life of the great 
king by whom it had been so fearfully augmented.* 



Synopsis op Events between the Battle of Chalons, a.d. 451, ANi> 
THE Battle of Toues, a. n. 732. 

A.D. 476. The Eoman empire of the West extinguished bj 
Odoacer. 

481. Establishment of the French monarchy in Gaul by Clovis. 

455-582. The Saxons, Angles, and Frisians conquer Britian, ex- 
cept the northern parts and the districts along the west coast. 
The German conquerers found eight independent kingdoms. 

533-508. The generals of Justinian, the Emperor of Constanti- 
nople, conquer Italy and North Africa ; and these countries are for 
a short time annexed to the Boman empire of the East. 

508-570. The Lombards conquer great part of Italy. 

570-027. The wars between the emperors of Constantinople and 
the kings of Persia are actively continued. 

022. The Mohammedan era of the Hegira. Mohammed is driven 
from Mecca, and is received as Prince of Medina. 

029-032. Mohammed conquers Arabia. 

632-651. The Mohammedan Arabs invade and conquer Persian 

632-700. They attack the Eoman empire of the East. They con- 
quer Syria, Egypt and Africa. 

709-713. They cross the Straits of Gibraltar, and invade and 
conquer Spain. 



CHAPTER Vn. 

THE BATTLE OF TOUES, A.D. 732. 

The events that rescued our ancestors of Britain and our neighbors of 
Oaul from tlie ciAll and religious yoke of the Koran.— Gibbon. 

The broad tract of campaign country which intervenes between 

* If I seem to liave given fewer of the details of the battle itself than its 
Importance would warrant, my excuse must be. that diMion has enriched 
our language with a description oi; it. too long lor (iiK)tatiou and too splendid 
for rivalry. 1 have not. however, taken altogether the same view ot it that 
he has. Tlie notes to M r . Herbert s poem of ' • Attila »' bring- together nearly 
ail the authorities on the subject. 



BATTLE OF TOURS 139 

the cities of Poictiers and Tours is principally composed of a suc- 
cession of rich pasture lands, which are traversed and fertiiizea oy 
the Cher, the Creuse, the Vienne, the Claine, the Indre, and other 
tributaries of the Itiver Loire, Here and there the ground swells 
into picturesque eminences, and occasionally a belt of forest land, 
a brown heath, or a clustering series of vineyards breaks the 
monotony of the widespread meadows ; but the general character 
of the land is that of a grassy plain, and it seems naturally adapted 
for the evolutions of numerous armies, especially of those vast 
bodies of cavalry which principally decided the fate of nations 
during the centuries that followed the downfall of Kome, and pre^ 
ceded the consolidation of the modern European powers. 

This region has been signalized by more tnun one memorable 
conflict ; but it is principally interesting tt> the historian by having 
been the scene of the great victory won by Charles Martel over the 
Saracens, a.d. 732, which gave a decisive check to the career ot 
Arab conquest in Western Europe, rescued Christendom from 
Islam, preserved the relics of ancient and the germs of modern 
civilization, and re-established the old superiority of Indo-European 
over the Semitic family of mankind. 

Sismondi and Michelet have underrated the enduring interest of 
this great Appeal of Battle between the champions of the Crescent 
and the Cross. But, if French writers have slighted the exploits 
of the/r national hero, the Saracenic trophies of Charles Martel have 
had full justice done to them by English and German historians. 
Gibbon devotes several pages of his great work* to the narrative of 
the battle of Tours, and the consideration of the consequences 
which probably would have resulted if Abderrahman's enter- 
prise had not been crushed by the Prankish chief. Schlegelf 
speaks of this "mighty victory" in terms of fervent gratitude, and 
tells how "the arm of Charles Martel saved and delivered the 
Christian nations of the "West from the deadly grasp of all -destroy- 
ing Islam ;" and Ranket points out, as "one of the most important 
epochs in the history of the world, the commencement of the eighth 
century, when on one side Mohammedanism threatened to over- 
spread Italy and Gaul, and on the other the ancient idolatry of 
Saxony and Friesland once more forced its way across the Rhine. 
In this peril of Christian institutions, a youthful prince of Germanic 
race, Karl Martell, arose as their champion, maintained them with 
all the energy which the necessity for self-defense calls forth, and 
finally extended them into new regions." 

* Vol. vll., p. 17, et Heq. GilDbon's sneering remark, that If the Saracen 
conquests had not then been checked, "perhaps the Interpretation of the 
Koran would now be taught In the schools of Oxford, and her pulpits might 
demonstrate to a circumcised people the sancity and truth of the revelatioii 
of Mohammed, has almost an air of regret. 

t " Phllosphy of Hist/Dry," p 331. 

% " History of the Keformation in Genaany," yol. 1., p. 6, 



140 DECISIVE! BATTLES. 

Arnold* ranks the victory of Charles Martel even higher than 
the victory of Arminiiis, "among those signal dolivorances which 
have aHVoted for oonturios the happiness of luanlvind." In fact, the 
more we test its importance, the higher we shall be led to estimate 
it ; and, though all authentic details which we possess of its cir- 
cumstances and its heroes are but meager, we oun trace enough of 
its general character to make us watch with deep interest this 
encounter between the rival conquerors of the decaying lloman 
empire. That old classic world, the history of which occupies so 
large a portion of our early studies, lay, in the eighth century of 
our era, utterly inanimate and overthrown. On the north the 
German, on the south the Arab, was rending away its provinces. 
At last the spoilers encoiintercd one another, each 'striving for the 
full mastery of the prey. Their contiict brought back upon the 
memory of Gibbon the old Homeric simile, where the strife of 
Hector and Patroclus over the dead body of Cebriones is compared 
to the combat of two lions, that in their hate and hunger light 
together on the mountain tops over the carcass of a slaughterecj 
stag ; and the reluctant yielding of the Saracen power to the supe- 
rior might of the Northern warriors might not inaptly recall those 
other lines of the same book of the Iliad, where the downfall of 
Patroclus beneath Hector is likened to the forced yielding of the 
panting and exhaustad wild boar, that had long' and furiously 
foTight with a superior beast of prey for the possession of the scantv 
fountain among the rocks at which each burned to drink, f 

Although three centuries had passed away since the Germanic 
conquerors of Rome had crossed the Ehine, never to repass that 
frontier stream, no settled system of institutions or government, 
no amalgamation of the various races into one people, no uniformity 
of language or habits, had been established in the country at the 
time when Charles ]\Iartel was called to repel the menacing tide of 
Saracenic invasion from the south. Gaul was not yet Frjince. In 
that, as in other provinces of the Roman empire of the "West, the 
dominion of the Ot^sars had been shattered as early as the fifth 
century, and barbaric kingdoms and principalities had promptly 

* " History of tlie later Koman Oommonwealtli,"' vol. 11., p. 317. 
t , Jeoyd' Gjf, d)ipiyO})Ti]y, 

DjT op£o? xofji'cptjoi TTepL xrausyf/? ^Xdcpoto, 
'^AjLKpco TTSiydoyrE, jiuXa (pfjoyeoyrs jndx£(jOoy. 

11. , It. 756. 

*/2? 5' ore '6vv axdnavra Xioav kfSiT}6aro xd-puxiy 
Tcb V ofJEoi xopfxp^oi /iieycx cppoyeorrs /idxEECOorj 
II}dcXHo<i (X/H(p 6X}y7/<}' sOeXovdl 6s nis/ney ducpco ' 
UoXXd ds V dc^f-iaivoyra Xecov kdd/icxCdF fSif/cpiv. 

11., n\ 823. 



BATTLE OF TO UBS, 1^1 

arisen on the mins of the Roman power. But few of these had any 
permanency, and none of thorn conHolidated the rest, or any con- 
Hideral^e nnuihcr of the rest, into one coherent and organized civil 
and political society. The great bulk of the ixjpulation still con- 
sisted of the conquered provincials, that is to say, Komanized Celts, 
of a Gallic race which had long been under the dominion of the 
Caesars, and had acquired, together with no slight infusion of Iloman 
blood, the language, the literature the laws and the civilization of 
Latium. Among these, and dominant over them, roved or dwelt the 
German victors ; some retaining nearly all the rude independence 
of their primitive national character, others softened and disciplined 
by the aspect and contact of tije manners and institutions of civil- 
ized life ; for it is to bo bornf; in mind that the lioman empire in 
the W(;Kt was not crushed by any sudden avalanche or barbaric 
invasion. The Germanic conrjuorors came across the Rhine, not 
in enormous hosts, but in bands of a few thousand warriors 
at a time. The conquest of a province was the result of an infinite 
series of yjartial local invasions, carried on by little armies of this 
descriptifjn. The victorious warriors either retired with their booty, 
or fixed thems(;lvos in the invaded district, taking care to keep suffi- 
ciently concentrated for military purj^osfrs, and ever ready for some 
-i-esh foray, either against a rival Teutonic band, or some hitherto 
dnassailod city of the provincials. Gradually, however, the con- 
querors acquired a desire for permaneut landed possessions. They 
iost somewhat of the restless thirst for novelty and adventure which 
iiad first made them throng beneath the banner of the boldest cap- 
tains of their tribe, and leave their native forests for a roving mili- 
l^iry life on the left bank of the Rhine. They were converted to 
the Christian faith, and gave up with their old creed much of the 
coarse ferocity which must have been fostered in the spirits of the 
ancient warriors of the North by a mythology which promised, as 
the reward of the brave on earth, an eternal cycle of fighting and 
drunkenness in heaven. 

But, although their conversion and other civilizing influences 
operated powerfully upon the Germans in Gaul, and although the 
Franks (who were originally a confederation of the Teutonic tribes 
that dwelt between the Rhine, the Maine, and the Weser) estab- 
lished a decisive superiority over the other conquerors of the prov- 
ince, as well as over the conquered provincials, the country long 
remained a chaos of uncombined and shifting elements. The early 
princes of the Merovingian dynasty were generally occupied in 
'Wars against other princes of their house, occasioned by the fre- 
'juent subdivisions of the Frank monarchy ; and the ablest and best 
L-f them had found all their energies tasked to the utmost to defend 
the barrier of the Rhine against the pagan Germans who strove to 
T)ass the river and gather their share of the spoils of the empire. 

The conquests which the Saracens effected over the southern and 
casterxx provinces of Rome were far mor rapid than those achieved 



142 DECISIVE BA TTLES, 

by the Germans in the north, and the new orgnnizatious of society 
which tho MosU^ins introduced were summarily and uniformly 
enforced. Exactly a centiiry passed between the death of Mohammed 
and the date of the battle of Tours. Duriui^ that century the followers 
of tho Prophet had torn away half the Ivoman empire ; juid besides 
their conquests over Persia, the Saracens had overrun Syria, Egypt, 
Africa, juid Spain, in an \incheckered and apparently irresistible 
career of victory. Nor. at the commencement of the eighth century 
of our era, was the Mohammedan world divided against itself, as it 
'subsequently became. All these vast regions obeyed the caliph ; 
throughout them all. from the Pyrenees to the C^xus, the name of 
Mohammed was invoked in prayer, and the Koran revered as the 
book of the law. 

It was under one of their ablest and most renowned commanders, 
with a vetei^an army, and with every apparent advantage of time, 
place, and circumstance, that the Arabs made their great etfort at 
the conquest of Europe north of the Pyrenees. The victorious 
Moslem soldiery in Spain, 

''A countless multitude ; 
Syrian, Moor, Saracen, UrtH^k reneijade. 
Persian, aiul Copt, and 'l\\rtar, in one bond ^ 
Of errin^a: faith conlolned— strong in the youth 
And heat of zeal— a dreadful bi-othcrhood," 

were eager for the plunder of more Christian cities and shrines, 
and full of fiinatic confidence in the invincibility of their arms. 

Nor were the chiefs 
Of victory less assured, by Ions: success 
Elate, and proud of tUat o'er\\^iclming strengtli 
Which. suiYly they believed, as It had rolled 
Thus far micheck'd. would roll victorious on, 
'nil. like the (.Orient the subjected West 
Should bow in i-evermice at Mohammed's name; 
And piliTi-inis fvon\ nMuotest Arctic shores 
llvad Avith ix^ligious feet the b\u-ning sands 
Of Araby and Mecca's stoiij' soil. 

SorTHBT'S Eoderick. 

It is not only by the modern Christian poet, but by the old 
An\bian chroniclers pIso. that these feelings of ambition and ari'o- 
gance are attributed to the Moslems who had overthrown the 
Visigoth power in Spain. And their eagex expectations of new 
wars were excited to the utmost on the reappointment by the 
cj^liph of Abderrahman Ibn Abdillah Alghafeki to the government 
of that country, a.d. 729, which restored them a general who had 
signalized his skill and prowess during the conquests of Africa 
and Spain, whose ready valor and generosity had made him the 
idol of the troops, who had already been engaged in several expe- 
ditions into Gaul, so as to be well acquainted with the natiomvl 
character and tactics of the Franks, and who was kno-wn to thirsty 



BATTLE OF T0UB8. 143 

like a goorl Mof-lem, for revcufre for the slanghter of some detach- 
ments of the True BelieverB, which had been cut off on the north 
of the Pyrenees. 

In addition to his cardinal military virtues, Abderrahman is 
descri):>ed by the Arab writers as a model of integrity and justice. 
The first two years of his second administration in Spain were oc- 
cupied in severe reforms of the abuses which under his j)rede- 
cessors had crept into the system of government, and in extensive 
preparations for his intended conquent in Gaul. Besides the 
troops which he collected from his province, he obtained from 
Africa a large body of chosen Berber cavalry, officered by Arabs of 
proved skill and valor; and in the summer of 732, he crossed the 
l^yrenees at the head of an army which some Arab writers rate at 
eighty thousand strong, while some of the Cljristian chroniclers 
swell its nurnVjers to many hundreds of thousands more. Probably 
the Arab account diminishes, but of the two keeps nearer to the 
truth. It was from ihic formidable host, after Eudes, the Count 
of Aquitaine, had vainly striven to check it, after many strong 
cities had fallen before it, and half the land had been overrun, 
that Gaul and Christendom were at last rescued by the strong arm 
of Prince Charles, who acquired a surname,* like that of the war- 
god of his forefathers' creed, from the might with which he broke y 
and shattered his enemies in the battle. ,/ 

The Merovingian kings had sunk into absolute insignificance, 
and had become mere puppets of royalty before the eighth cen- 
tury. Charles Martel, like his father, Pepin Heristal, was Duke 
of the Austrasian Franks, the bravest and most thoroughly Ger- 
manic part of the nation, and exercised, in the name of the titular 
king, what little jjaramount authority the turbulent minor rulers 
of districts and towns could be persuaded or compelled to acknowl- 
edge. Engaged with his national competitors in perpetual con- 
flicts for power, and in more serious struggles for safety against 
the fierce tribes of the unconverted Frisians, Bavarians, Saxons, 
and Thuringians, who at that epoch assailed with peculiar ferocity 
the Christianized Germans on the left bank of the Pthine, Charles 
Martel added experienced skill to his natural courage, and he had 
also formed a militia of veterans among the Franks. Hallam has 
thrown out a doubt whether, in our admiration of his victory afc 
Tours, we do not judge a little too much by the event, and whether 
there was not rashness in his risking the fate of France on the re- 
sult ©f a general battle with the invaders. But when we remember 
that Charles had no standing army, and the independent spirit 
of the Frank warriors who followed his standard, it seems most 
probable that it was not in his power to adojjt the cautious policy 
of watching the invaders, and wearing out their strength by delay. 

* ]M artel— The TTammer. See tlie Scandanavian Sagas for an account ox 
Vije f3.vorli,e weapon ol Thoar. 



144 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

So dreadful and. so widespread were the ravages of the Saracenic 
light cavalry throughout Gaul, that it must have been impossible 
to restrain for anj'- length of time the indignant ardor of the 
Franks. And, even if Charles could have persuaded his men to 
look tamely on while the Arabs stormed more towns and. desolated 
more districts, he could not have kept an army together when the 
usual period of a military expedition had expired. If, indeed, the 
.Arab account of the disorganization of the Moslem forces be cor- 
'rect, the battle was as well timed on the part of Charles, as it was, 
beyond all question, well fought. 

The monkish chroniclers, from whom we are obliged to glean a 
narrative of this memorable campaign, bear full evidence to the 
terror which the Saracen invasion inspired, and to the agony of 
that great struggle. The Saracens, say they, and their king, who 
was called Abdirames, came out of Spain, with all their wives, and 
their children, and their substance, in such great multitudes that 
no man could reckon or estimate them. They brought with them 
all their armor, and whatever they had, asif they were thenceforth 
always to dwell in France. * 

" then Abderrahman, seeing the land filled with the multitude 
of his army, pierces through the mountains, tramples over rough 
and level ground, plunders far into the country of the Franks, and 
smites all with the sword, insomuch that when Eudo came to bat- 
tle with him at the Eiver Garonne, and fled before him, God alone 
knows the number of the slain. Then Abderrahman pursued 
after Count Eudo, and while he strives to spoil and burn the holy 
shrine at Tours, he encounters the chief of the Austrasian Franks, 
Charles, a man of war from his youth up, to whom Eudo had sent 
warning. There for nearly seven days they strive intensely, and 
at last they set themselves in battle array, and the nations of the 
North standing firm as a wall, and impenetrable as a zone of ice, 
utterly slay the Arabs with the edge of the sword, "f 

The European writers all concur in speaking of the fall of 
Abderrahman as one of the ijrincipal causes of the defeat of the 
Arabs; who, according to one writer, after fin ding that their leader 
was slain, dispersed in the night, to the agreeable, surprise of the 
Christians, who expected the next morning to see them issue from 
their tents and renew the combat. One monkish chronicler puts 
•the loss of the AratSs at 375,000 men, while he says that only 1007 
Christians fell; a disparity of ] >ss which he feels bound to account 
for by a special interpositior " of Trovidence. I have translated 

* ' ' Lors issirent d'Espaigne 11 Sarrazlns, et un leur Koi qui avoit nom Ab- 
dirames, et out leur fames et leur enfans et toute leur sutostance en si grand 
plente que nus ne le prevoit nomljrer ne estimer : tout leur liarnois et quan- 
ques il avolent amenement avec entz, aussl comme si ils deussent toujours 
mc-s luibiier en France.'' 

t ■ uiic /.Ldirralmjan. multltudine sui exercitus repletam prospiciens 
tcrram, etc.— Script. Gif<t. Franc , p. 785. 



BATTLE OF TO UBS. 145 

above some of the most spirited passages of these writers ; but it 
is impossible to collect from them any thing like a full or authen- 
tic description of the great battle itself, or of the operations which 
preceded and followed it. 

Though, however, we may have cause to regret the meagemess 
and doubtful character of these narratives, we have the great ad- 
vantage of being able to compare the accounts given in Abderrah- 
man's expedition by the national writers of each side. This is a 
benefit which the inquirer into antiquity so seldom can obtain, 
that the fact of possessing it, in the case of the battle of Tours, 
Imakes us think the historical testimony respecting that great 
event more certain and satisfactory than is the case in many other 
instances, where we possess abundant details respecting military 
exploits, but where those details come to us from the annalist of 
one nation only, and where we have, consequently, no safeguard 
against the exaggerations, the distortions, and the fictions which 
national vanity has so often put forth in the garb and under the 
title of history. The Arabian writers who recorded the conquests 
and wars of their countrymen in Spain have narrated also the ex- 
pedition into Gaul of their great emir, and his defeat and death 
near Tours , in battle with the host of the Franks under King 
Caldus, the name into which they metamorphose Charles Martel.* 

They tell us how there was a war between the count of the 
Frankish frontier and the Moslems, and how the count gathered 
together all his people, and fought for a time with doubtful suc- 
cess. " But,'' say the Arabian cHroniclers, "Abderrahman drove 
them back; and the men of Abderrahman were pufi"ed up in spirit 
by their rejoeated successes, and they were full of trust in the valor 
and the practice in war of their emir. So the Moslems smote 
their enemies, and ]Dassed the Eiver Garonne, and laid waste the 
country, and took captives without number. And that army went 
through all places like a desolating storm. Prosperity made these 
warriors insatiable. At the passage of the river, Abderrahman 
overthrew the count, and the count retired into his stronghold, 
but the Moslems fought against it, and entered it by force and 
slew the count; for every thing gave way to their cimeters, which 
were the robbers of lives. All the nations of the Franks trembled 
at that terrible army, and they betook them to their king Caldus, 
and told him of the havoc made 1 y tho Moslem horsemen, and 
how they rode at their will throu^^ ,i all the land of Narbonne, 
Toulouse, and Bordeaux, and they toid the king of the death of 

* The Arabian clironicles were complied and translated Into Spanish 
by Don Jose Antonio Conde, in Ms " Ulstoria de la Domlnaclon de los 
Arabos en Espana," publislied at Madrid In 1820. Conde's plan, wWch I 
liave endeavored to follow, was to preserve both the style and spirit of Ms 
Oriental authorities, so that we find in his pages a genuine Saracenic nar- 
rative of the wars in Western Europe between the Mohammedans and the 
Christians. 



14« DECISIVE BATTLES. 

their conut Tlien tlie king biule them he of good cheer, and 
oflterod to aid them. And in the ll-ith year* ho mounted his 
horse, and ho took with him a host that oouhl not bo nximberod, 
and went against the Mosh^ms. And he eame ninni them at the 
great oity of Tours. And Ahdermhman and other prudent cava- 
liers saw the disorder of the IVIosU^m troops, wlio were headed with 
spoil; but they did not venture to displease the soldiei-s by order- 
ing them to abandon every thing except theirarms and war-horses. 
And Abderrahman trusted in the valor of his soldiers, and in the 
good fortune whieh had ever attended him. But (the Arab writer 
remarks') such defect of discipline always is fatal to armies. So 
Abderrahman and his host attacked Tours to gain still more spoil, 
and they fought against it so tiercely that they stormed the city 
almost before the eyes of the army that came to save it; and the 
fiiry and the cruelty of the Moslems toward the inhabitants of the 
city was like the fury and cruelty of raging tigers. It was mixnifest^" 
adds the Arab, "that God's chastisement was sure to follow such 
excesses; and Fortune thereupon turned her back upon the Mos- 
lems. 

•Near the Eiver Owar,t the two great hosts of the two languages 
and the two creeds were set in array against each other. The 
hearts of Abderrahman, his captains, and his men, were filled 
with wrath and pride, and they were the tirst to begin the ti^ht. 
The Moslem horsemen dashed fierce and frequent forward agmnst 
the battalions of the Franks, who resisted manfully, and mimy 
fell dead on either side until the going down of the sun. Night 
parted the two armies ; but in the gray of the morning the Mos- 
lems retiirned to the battle. Their cavaliers had soon hewn their 
way into the center of the Christian host. But many of the Mos- 
lems were fearful for the safety of the spoil which they had stored 
in their tents, and a talse cry arose in their ranks that some of the 
enemy were plundering the camp ; whereupon several squadrons 
of the Moslem horsemen rode oft' to protect their tents. But it 
seemed as if they fled ; and all the host was troubled. And while 
Abderrahman strove to check their tumult, and to lead them back 
to battle, the warriors of the Franks came around him, and he 
was pierced through with many spears, so that he died. Then all 
the host fled before the enemy, and many died in the flight. This 
deadly defeat of the Moslems, and the loss of the great leader and 
good cavalier Abderrahman, took place in the hundred and fif- 
teenth year." 

It would be difiicult to expect from an adversary a more explicit 
confession of having been thoroughly vanquished than the Arabs 
here accord to the Exaropeans. The points on which their narra- 
tive dift'ers from those of the Christians — as to how many days tlie 
conflict lasted, whether the assailed city was actually rescued or 

* Of tlie ne^ra. t Probably- the Loire, 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 147 

not, and the like— arc of little moment compared with the admit- 
ted ^^reat fact that there wan a decisive trial of strength between 
Frank and Saracn, in N\hich the former conquered. The erxdur- 
ing importance of the battle of Tours in the eyes of the Moslems 
is attested nrjt only by the expressions of "the deadly battle " and 
•'the disgraceful overthrow " which their writers constantly em- 
ploy when referring to it, but also by the fact that no more serious 
attempts at conquent beyond the Pyrenees were made by the 
Saracens, Charles Martel, and his son and grandson, were left at 
leisure to consolidate and extend their power. The new Christian 
Roman empire of the West, which the genius of Charlemagne 
founded, and throughout which his iron will imposed j^eace on 
the old anarchy of creeds and races, did not indeed retain its in- 
tegrity after its great ruler's death. Fresh troubles came over 
Europe : but Christendom, thouph disunited w<'i8 safe. The prog- 
ress of civilization, and the development of the nationalities and 
governments of modern Europe, from that time forth went forward 
in not uninterrupted, but ultimately certain career. 



Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Toues, a.d. 732, 
AND THE Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1066. 

A.D. 768-814. Pteign of Charlemagne. This monarch has justly 
been termed the principal regenerator of Western Europe, after 
the destruction of the lioman Empire. The early death of his 
brother Carloman left him sole master of the dominion of the 
Franks, which, by a succession of victorious wars, he enlarged into 
the new empire of the West. He conquered the Lombards, and 
re-established the pope at Pome, who, in return, acknowledged 
Charles as suzerain of Italy. And in the year HOO, Leo III., in the 
name of the lioman people, solemnly crowned Charlemagne at 
Rome as emperor of the Roman empire of the West. In Sfjain, 
Charlemagne ruled the country between the Pyrenees and the 
Ebro ; but his most important conquests were effected on tlie east- 
em side of his original kingdom, over the Sclavonians of Bohemia, 
the Avars of Pannonia, and over the previously uncivilized Ger- 
man tribes, who had remained in their fatherland. The old 
Saxons were his most obstinate antagonists, and his wars with 
them lasted for thirty years. Under him the greater part of Ger- 
many was compulsorily civilized and converted from paganism to 
Christianity. His emprre extended eastward as f ; r as the Jdbe. the 
Saale, the Bohemian Mountains, and a line drawn from thence cross- 
ing the Danube above Vienna, and prolonged to the Gulf of Isli-^a.* 

* BaUam'S " Middle Ages." 



148 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

Throughout this vast assemblage of provinces, Charlemagne estab- ' 
lished an organized and firm government. But it is not as a mere 
conqueror that he demands admiration. "In a life restlessly ac- 
tive, we see him reforming the coinage and establishing the legal 
divisions of money ; gathering about him the learned of every 
country ; founding schools and collecting libraries ; interferring, 
■with the air of a king, in religous controversies ; attempting, for 
the sake of commerce, the magnificent enterprise of uniting the 
Ehine and the Danube, and meditating to mold the discordant 
code of Koman and barbarian laws into a uniform system."* 

81-1-888. Repeated partitions of the empire and civil wars be- 
tween Charlemagne's descendants. Ultimately the kingdom of 
France is finally separated from Germany and Italy. In 962, Otho 
the Great of Germany revives the imperial dignity. 

827. Egbert, king of Wessex, acquires the supremacy over the 
other Anglo-Saxon kingdoms. 

832. The first Danish squadron attacks part of the English 
coast. The Danes, or Northmen, had begun their ravages in 
France a few years earlier. For two centuries S 'andinavia sends 
out fleet after fleet of sea-rovers, who desolate all tlie western king- 
doms of Europe, and in many cases eftect permanent conquests. 

871-900. Eeign of Alfred in England, After a long and varied 
struggle, he rescues England from the Danish invaders. 

911. The French king cedes Neustria to Hrolf the Northman. 
Hrolf (or Duke Kollo, as he thenceforth was termed ) and his army 
of Scandinavian warriors become the ruling class of the population 
of the province, which is called after them, Normandy. 

1016. Four knights from Normandy, who had been on v. pil- 
grimage to the Holy Land, while returning through Italy, head the 
people of Salerno in repelling an attack of a band of Saracen cor- 
sairs. In the next year many adventiirers from Normandy settle 
in Italy, where they conquer Apulia (1010), and afterward (1060) 
Sicily. 

10i7, Canute, king of Denmark, becomes king of England. 
On the death of the last of his sons, in 1041, the Saxon line" is re- 
stored, and Edward the Confessor (who had been bred in the court 
of the Duke of Normandy) is calle 1 by the English to the throne of 
this island, as the representative of the house of Cerdic. 

1035. Duke Eobert of Normandy dies on his return from a pil- 
grimage to the Holj' Land, and his son William ( atterward the 
conqueror of England) succeeds to the dukedom of Normandy. 

* Hallam, ut supra. 



BATTLE OF HASTIliOS. U^ 

CHAPTEE Vni. 

THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS, A.D. 1&669^^ 

Eis vos la Bataille assemWee,* 
Dune encore est grant renomee. 

Roman de liou, 13,183. 

Arletta's pretty feet twinkling in tlie brook made her the mother 
of William the Conqueror. Had she not thus fascinated Duke 
Kobert the Liberal of Normandy, Harold would not have fallen at 
Hastings, ilo Anglo-Norman dynasty would have arisen, no British 
empire. The reflection is Sir Francis Palgrave's;* and it is em- 
phaticly true. If any one should write a history of " Decisive loves 
that have materially influenced the drama of the world in all its 
subsequent scenes," the daughter of the tanner of Falaise would 
deserve a conspicuous place in its pages. But it is her son, the 
victor of Hastings, who is now the object of our attention ; and no 
one who appreciates the influence of England and her empire upon 
the destinies of the world, will ever rank that victory as one of 
secondary importance. 

It is true that in the last century some writers of eminence on 
our history and laws mentioned the Norman Conquest in terms 
from which it might be supposed that the battle of Hastings led to 
little more than the substitution of one royal family on the throne 
of this country and to the garbling and changing of some of our 
laws through the "cunning of the Norman lawyers." But, at least 
since the appearance of the work of Augustin Thierry on the Nor- 
man Conquest, these forensic fallacies have been exploded. Thi- 
erry made his readers keenly appreciate the magnitude of that 
political and social catastrophe. He depicted in vivid colors the 
atrocious cruelties of the conquerors, and the sweeping and endur- 
ing innovations that they wrought, involving the overthrow of the 
ancient constitution, as well as of the last of the Saxon kings. In 
his pages we see new tribunals and tenures superseding the old 
ones, new divisions of race and class introduced, whole districts 
devastated to gratify the vengeance or the caprice of the new tyrant, 
the greater part of the lands of the English confiscated and divided 
among aliens, the very name of Englishmen turned into a reproach,! 
the English language rejected as servile and barbarous, and all the 
high places in church and state for upward of a century filled 
exclusively by men of foreign race. 

No less true than eloquent is Thierry's summing up of the social 
effects of the Norman Conquest on the generation that witnessed 
it, and on many of their successors. He tells his reader that "if 



* "History ol Normandy and England," vol. JL, p. 586. 



150 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

he would form a just idea of England conquered by "VMlliam of 
Normandy, he miist tignre to himself — not a mere change of polit- 
ical rnle — not the triumi.h of one candidate over another candidate 
— of the man of one party over the man of anothtr i arty, but the 
intrusion of one people into the bosom of another people — the 
violent placing of one society over another society which it came 
to destroy, and the scattered fragments of which it retained only 
as personal i>roperty, or (to use the words of an old act) as 'the 
clothing of the soil ;' he must not picture to himself on the other 
hand, William, a king and a despot — on the other, subjects of 
,iWilliam's, high and low, rich and poor, all inhabiting England, and 
consequently all English ; he must imagine two nations, one of 
which "William is a member and the chief— two nations which (if 
the term must be used) were both subject to William, but as applied 
to which the word has quite ditierent senses, meaning, in the one 
case, subo7'dinate — in the other, subjugated. He must consider that 
there are two countries, two soils, included in the eame geograph- 
ical circumference — that of the Normans, rich and free ; that of the 
Saxons, poor and serving, vexed hy rent and ioilarie: the former 
full of spacious mansions, and walled and moated castles ; the 
latter scattered over with huts and straw, and ruined hovels : that 
peopled with the happy and the idle — with men of the army nnd 
of the coiirt — with knights and nobles ; this with men of pain and 
labor — with farmers and artisans : on the one side, luxury and 
insolence; on the other, misery and envy— not the envy of the poor 
at the sight of opiilence they cannot reach, but the envy of the 
despoiled when in the presence of the despoilers." 

Perhaps the effect of Thierry's work has been to cast into the 
shade the ultimate good effects on England of the Norman Conquest. 
Yet these are as undeniable as are the miseries which that conquest 
inflicted on our Saxon ancestors from the time of the battle of 
Hastings to the time of the signing of the Great Charter at Eunny- 
mede. That last is the true epoch of English nationality ; it is the 
epoch when Anglo-Norman and Anglo-Saxon ceased to keep aloof 
from each other — the one in haughty scorn, the other in sullen 
abhorrence ; and when all the free men of the land, whether ba- 
rons, knights, yoemen, or burghers, combined to lay the foundations 
of English freedom. 

I Our Norman barons were the chiefs of that primary constitutional 
movement ; those "iron barons," whom Chatham has so nobly 
eulogized. This alone should make England remember her obli- 
gations to the Norman Conquest, which planted far and wide, as a 
dominant class in her land, a martial nobility of the bravest and 
most energetic race that ever existed. 

It may sound parodoxical, but it is in reality no exaggeration to 
say, with Guizot,* that England's liberties are owing to her having 

* " E&sals BUT I'JHistoire de France," p, 2T8, etseq. 



BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 151 

been conquered by the Normans. It is true that the Saxon insti- 
tutions were the primitive cradle of English liberty, but by their 
own intrii^sic force they could never have founded the enduring 
free English Constitution. It was the Conquest that infused into 
them, a new virtue, and the political liberties of England arose from 
the situation in which the Anglo-Saxon an 1 the Anglo-Norman popu- 
lations and laws found themselves placed relatively to each other 
in this island. The state of England under her last Anglo-Saxon 
kings closely resembled the state of France under the last Carlo- 
vingian and the first Capetian princes. The crown was feeble, the 
great nobles were strong and turbulent ; and although there was 
more national unity in Saxon Englr.nd than in France — although 
the English local free institutions had more reality and energy than 
was the case with any thing analogous to them on the Continent in 
*he eleventh century, still the probabilty is that the Saxon system 
of polity, if left to itself, would have fallen into utter confusion, 
Dut of which would have arisen, first, an aristocratic hierarchy ; 
%e that which arose in France; next, an absolute monarchy, 
Hnd, finally, a series of anarchial revolutions, such as we now be- 
hold around, but not among us.* 

The latest conquerors of this island were also the bravest and the 
best. I do not excei^t even the Komans. And, in spite of our 
sympathies with Harold and Hereward, and our abhorrence of the 
founder of the New Forest and the desolator of Yorkshire, we must 
confess the superiority of the Normans to the Anglo-Saxons and 
Anglo-Danes, whom they met here in 106G, as well as to the degen- 
erate Frank noblesse, and the crushed and servile Romanesque 
provincials, from whom, in 912, they had wrested thedistrict in the 
north of Gaul, which still bears the name of Norflrtrtray. 

It was not merely by extreme valor and ready subordination to 
military discipline that the Normans were pre-eminent among all 
the conquering races of the Gothic stock, but also by an instinctive 
faculty of appreciating and adopting the superior civilizations 
which they encountered. The Duke Ptollus and his Scandinavian 
warriors rsadily embraced the creed, the language, the laws, and 
the arts, which France, in those troubled and evil times with which 
the Capetian dynasty commenced, still inherited from imperial 
Eome and imperial Charlemagne. "lis adopterent les usages, les 
devoirs, les subordination que les capitulaires des empereurs et 
les rois sevoient institues. Mais ce qu'ils apporterent dans I'appli- 
cation de ces lois, ce fut I'esprit de vie, I'espritde liberte, I'habitude 
de la subordination militaire, et Tintelligence d'un etat politique 
qui conciliat la surete de tous aveo Tindependance de chacun."f 
So, also, in all chivalric feelings, in enthusiastic religious zeal, in 
almost idolatrous respect to females of gentle birth, in generous 

* See Guizot, ut supra. 

t bismondi, "Histoire ae Fracsais," vol. ill., p, 1T4, 



152 bectsivj: liATTLl^::^ 

fondness for the nascent poetry of the tiino, in a keen intellectual 
lelisli for subtle thought and disputation, in a taste for are bit t--.- 
tunil inagnitioenco. and all courtly relinonient and pai;oantry. 
The Normans -were tlio Paladins of the \vorld. Their brilliant 
qiialities were sullied by many darker traits of pride, of merciless 
cruelty, and of brutal contempt for the industry, the rights, and 
ithe feelings of all whom they considered the lower classes of man- 
kind. 

Their gradual blending with the Saxons softened these harsh 
and evil points of their national character: and in return they 
tired the duller Saxon mass with a new spirit of animation and 
power. As Campbell boldly expressed it, " Thei/ hitih-meUled the 
blood of our veins." Small had been the figure which England 
made in the world before the coming over of the Normans 
and without them she never would have emerged from insignifi- 
cance. The authority of Gibbon may be taken as decisive when 
he pronounces that " assuredly England was a gainer by the Con- 
quest." And we may proudly adopt the comment of the French- 
man Eapin, who, writing of the battle of Hastings more than ;\ 
century ago. speaks of the revolution efiected by it as "the first 
step by which England is arrived to the height of grandeur and 
glory we behold it in at present."* 

The interest of this eventful struggle, by which "William of Nor- 
mandy became king of England, is materially enhanced by the 
high personal character of the competitors for oiir crown. They 
were three in number. One was a foreign prince, from the 
north; one was a foreign prince, from the south; and one was a 
native hero of tlie land. Harald Hardrada, the strongest and 
the most chilvalric of the kings of JuDrway,t was the first; 
Duke William of Normandy was the second ; and the Saxon 
Harold, the son of Earl Godwin, was the third. Never was a nobler 
prize sought by nobler champions, or striven for more gallantly. 
The Saxon triiimphed over the Norwegian, and the Norman tii- 
nmplied over the Saxon ; but Norse valor was never more con- 
picuous than when Harald Hardrada and his host fought and fell 
at Stamford Bridge ; nor did Saxons ever face their foes more 
bravely than our Harold and his men on the fatal day of Hastings. 

During the reign of King Edward the Confessor over this land, 
ithe claims of the Norwegian king to our crown were little thought 
of ; and though Hardrada's predecessor, King Magnus of Norway, 
had on one occasion asserted that, by virtue of a compact with our 
former king, Hardicanute, he was entitled to the English throne, 
no serious attempt had been made to enforce his pretensions. 
But the rivalry of the Saxon Harold and the Norman William was 

* Rapln. ' ' Hist. England," p. 164. See, also, on this point, Sharon 
Turner, vol. iv., p. 7'i. 
t bee in Snoi"i"e the Saga Herald! Haxdrada. 



BA TTL E OF HASTING f^. 153 

foreseen and bewailed h: the Confessor, wlio was believed to 
have predicted on his death-bed the calamities that were impend- 
ing over England. Duke William was King Edward's kinsman. 
Harold was the head of the most powerful noble house, next to the 
royal blood, in England ; and, ]>orsonally, he was the bravest and 
most popular chieftain in the Innd. King Edward was childless, and 
the nearest collateral heir was a puny unpromising Vjoy. England 
had sufiered too severely, during royal minorities, to make the ac- 
cession of Edgar Atheling desirable ; and long before King Edward's 
death, Enrl Harold was the destined king of the nation's choice, 
though the favor of the Confessor was believed to lead toward the 
Norman duke. 

A little time before the death of King Edward, Harold was in 
Normandy. The causes of the voyage of the Saxon earl to the 
Continent are doubtful; but the fact of his having been, in 1065, 
at the ducal court, and in the power of his rival, is indisimtable. 
William made skilful and unscrupulous use of the opx^ortunity. 
Though Harold was treated with outward courtesy and friend- 
ship, he was made fully aware that his liberty and life depended 
on his compliance with the duke's requests. William said to him 
in apparent confidence and cordiality, "When King Edward and 
I once lived like brothers under the same roof, he promised that 
if ever he became King of England, he would make me heir to 
his throne. Harold, I wish that thou wouldst assist me to realize 
this promise." Harold rejdied with expressions of assent, and 
further agreed, at William's request, to marry William's daughter, 
Adela, and to .send over his own sister to be married to one of 
William's barons. The crafty Norman was not content with this 
extorted promise; he determined to bind Harold by a more 
solemn pledge, the breach of which would be a weight on the 
spirit of the gallant Saxon, and a discouragement to others from 
adopting his cause. Before a full assembly of the Norman barons, 
Harold was required to do homage to Duke William, as the heir 
apparent to the English crown. Kneeling down, Harold placed 
his hands between those of the duke, and repeated the solemn 
form by which he acknowledged the duke as his lord, and prom- 
ised to him fealty and true service. But William exacted more. 
He bad caused all the bones and relics of saints, that were pre- 
served in the Norman monasteries and churches, to be collected 
into a chest, which was placed in the council-room, covered over 
with a cloth of gold. On the chest of relics, which were thus 
concealed, was laid a missal. The duke then solemnly addressed 
his titular guest and real captive, and said to him, "Harold, I 
require thee, before this noble assembly, to confirm by oath the 
promises which thou hast made me, to assist me in obtaining the 
crown of England after King Edward's death, to marry my 
daughter Adela, and to send me thy sister, that I may give her in 
marriage to one of my barons." Harold, once more taken by 



154 LEClStVB MTfLE^. 

surprise, and not able to deny his former words, approached the 
missal, and laid his hand on it, not knowing that the chest of 
relics was beneath. The old Norman chronicler, who describes 
the scene most minutely,* says, when Harold placed his hand on 
it, the hand trembled, and the flesh quivered; but he swore, and 
promised iipon his oath to take Ele [Adela] to wife, and to deliver 
up England to the duke and thereunto to do all in his power, 
according to his might and wit, after the death of Edward, if he 
himself shoul.l live; so help him God. Many cried, "God grant 
it!" and when Harold rose from his knees, the duke made him 
stand close to the chest, and took ofif the pall that had covered it. 
and showed Harold upon what holy relics he had sworn; and 
Harold was sorely alarmed at the sight. 

Harold was soon after permitted to return to England; and after 
a short interval, during which he distinguished himself by the 
wisdom and humanity with which he pacified some formidable 
tumults of the Anglo-Danes in Northumbria, he found himself 
called on to decide whether he would keep the oath which the Nor- 
man had obtained from him, or mount the vacantthrone of England 
in compliance with the nation's choice. King Edward the Con- 
fessor died on the 5th of January, 1066, and on the following day 
an assembly of the thanes and prehites present in London, and of 
the citizens of the metropolis, declared that Harold should be 
their king. It was reported that the dying Edward had nominated 
him as his successor. But the sense which his countrymen enter- 
tained of his pre-eminent merit was the true foundation of his title 
to the crown. Harold resolved to disregard the oath which he 
made in Normandy as violent and void, and on the 7th day of 
that January he was anointed King of England, and received from 
the archbishop's hands the golden crown and scepter of England, 
and also an ancient national symbol, a weighty battle-ax. He had 
truly deep and speedy need of this significant part of the insignia 
of Saxon royalty. 

A messenger from Normandy soon arrived to remind Harold of 
the oath which he had sworn to the duke "with his mouth, and his 
hand upon good and holy relics." " It is true," replied the Saxon 
king, "that I took an oath to William; but I took it under con- 
straint: I promised what did not belong to me — what I could not 
in any way hold: my royalty is not my own; I could not lay it down 
against the will of the country, nor can I, against the will of the 
country, take a foreign wife. As for my sister, whom the duke 
claims that he may marry her to one of his chiefs, she has died 
within the year; would he have me send her corpse?" 

William sent another message, which met with a similar answer; 
and then the duke published far and wide through Christendom 
what he termed the perjury and bad faith of his rival, and pro- 

* Wace, " Roman de Kou." I liave nearly/ loUowed liis words. 



BATTLE OF BASTINGS. 155 

claimed his intention of asserting Li. riglits by tlie sword, before 
the year should expire, and of pursuing and punishing the per- 
jurer even in those places where he thought he stood most strongly 
and most securely. 

Before, however, he commenced hostilities, William, with deep- 
laid policy, submitted his claims to the decision of the pope. 
Harold refused to acknowledge this tribunal, or to answer before 
an Italian priest for his title as an English king. After a formal 
examination of "William's complaints by the pope and the cardi- 
nils, it was solemnly adjudged at Rome that England belonged to 
the Noiman duke, and a banner was sent to "William from the 
Holy See, which the pope himsejf had consecrated, and blessed 
for the invasion of this island. The clergy throughout the Conti- 
nent \ ere now assiduous and energetic in preaching up William's 
enterprise as undertaken in the cause of God. Besides these spirit- 
ual arms {i.e effect of which in the eleventh century must not be 
measured by the philosophy or indifferentism of the nineteenth) 
the Norman duke applied all the energies of his mind and body, 
all the resources of his duchy, and aJl the intiiK nee he posessed 
among vassals or allies, to the collection of "the most ren) ark- 
able and formidable armament which the Western nations bad 
■witnessed."* All the adventurous spirits of Christendom flocked 
to the holy banner, under which Duke William, the most renowned 
knight and sagest general of the age, promised to lead them to 
glory and wealth in the fair domains of England. His army was 
tilled with the chivalry of Continental Europe, all eager to save 
their souls by fighting at the pope's bidding, eager to signalize 
their valor in so great an enterprise, and eager also for the pay 
and the plunder which William liberally promised. But the iMor- 
mans themselves were the pith and the flower oi the army, and 
William himself was the strongest, the sagest, and the fiercest 
spirit of them all. 

Throughout the spring and summer of 1066, all the sea-ports of 
Normandy, Picardy, and Brittany rang with the busy sound of 
preparation. On the opposite side of the Channel King Harold 
collected the army and the fleet with which he hoped to crush 
the southern invaders. But the unexpected attack of King Har- 
ald Hardrada of Norway upon another part of England discon- 
certed the skilful measures which the 8axon had taken against the 
menacing armada of Duke William. 

Harold's renegade brother, Earl Tostig, had excited the Norse 
king to this enterprise, the importance of which has naturally 
been eclipsed by the superior interest attached to the victorious 
expedition of Duke William, but which was on a scale of grandeur 
which the Scandinavian ports had rarely, if ever, before witnessed. 
Hardrada's fleet consisted of two hundred war ships and three 

* Sir James Mactintosh's " History of Engiana," yoI. t, p. 9T, 



J56 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

Imndred other vessels, and all tlie best warriors of Norway wera 
in his host. He sailed first to the Orkneys, where many of the 
islanders joined him, and then to Yorkshire. After a severe con- 
flict near York, he completel}' routed Earls Edwin and Morcar, 
the governors of Northnmbria. The city of York opened its gates, 
and all the country, from the Tyne, to the Humber, submitted to 
him. The tidings of the defeat of Edwin and Morcar compelled 
Harold to leave his position on the Southern coast, and move in- 
stantly against the Norwegians. By a remarkably rapid march he 
reached Yorkshire in four days, and took the Norse king and his 
confederates by surprise. Nevertheless, the battle which ensued, 
and which was fought near Stamford Bridge, was desperate and 
was long doubtful. Unable to break the ranks of the Norwegian 
phalanx by force, Harold at length tempted them to quit their 
close order by a pretended flight. Then the English columns 
burst in among them, and a carnage ensued, the extent of which 
may be judged of by the exhaustion and inactivity of Norway for 
a quarter of a century afterward. King Harald Hardrada, and all 
the flower of his nobility, perished on the 25th of September, 
1066, at Stamford Bridge, a battle which was a Flodden to Nor- 
way. 

Harold's victory was splendid; but he had bought it dearly by 
the fall of many of his best officers and men, and still more dearly 
by the opportunity which Duke William had gained of efl'ecting 
an unopposed landing on the Sussex coast. The whole of Wil- 
liam's shipping had assembled at the mouth of the Dive, a little 
river between the Seine and the Orne, as early as the middle of 
August. The army which he had collected amounted to fifty 
thousand knights and ten thousand soldiers of inferior degree. 
Many of the knights were mounted, but many must have served 
on foot, as it is hardly possible to believe that William could have 
found transports for the conveyance of fifty thousand war-horses 
across the Channel. For a long time the winds were adverse, and 
the duke employed the interval that passed before he could set 
sail in completing the organization and in improving the discipline 
of his army, which he seems to have brought into the same state 
of perfection as was seven centuries and a half afterward the boast 
of another army assembled on the same coast, and which Napoleon 
designed (but providentially in vain) for a similar descent upon 
England. 

It was not till the approach of the equinox that the wind veered 
from the northeast to the west, and gave the Normans an oppor- 
tunity of quitting the weary shores of the Dive. They eagerly em- 
barked and set sail, but the wind soon freshened to a gale and drove 
them along the French coast to St. Valery where the greater part 
of them found shelter; but many of their vessels were wrecked, and 
the whole coast of Normandy was strewn with the bodies of the 
drowned, William's army began to grow discouraged and averse 



BATTLE OF EASTINGS. 157 

to the enterprise, which the ^ery elements thus seemed to fight 
against; though, in reality, the northeast wind, which had coped 
them so long at the mouth of the Dive, and the western gale, 
which had forced them into St. Valery, were the best possible 
friends to the invaders. They prevented the Normans from cross- 
ing the Channel until the Saxon king and his army of defense 
had been called away from the Sussex coast to encounter Harald 
Hardrada in Yorkshire; and also until a formidable English fleet 
which by King Harold's orders had been cruising in the Channel 
to intercept the Normans, had been obliged to disperse tempor- 
arily for the purpose of refitting and taking in fresh stores of 
provisions. 

Duke William used every expedient to reanimate the drooping 
spirits of his men at St. Valery ; and at last he caused the body of 
the patron saint of the place to be exhumed and carried in solemn 
procession, while the whole assemblage of soldiers, mariners, and 
appurtenant priests implored the saint's intercession for a change 
of wind. That very night the wind veered, and enabled the me- 
diaeval Agamemnon to quit his Aulis. 

With full sails, and a following southern breeze, the Norman 
Armada left the French shores and steered for England. The 
invaders crossed an undefended sea, and found an undefended 
coast. It was in Pevensey Bay, in Sussex, at Bulverhithe, between 
the castle of Pevensey and Hastings, that the last conquerors of this 
island landed on the 29th of September, 1066. 

Harold was at York, rejoicing over his recent victory, which had 
delivered England from her ancient Scandinavian foes, and resett- 
ling the government of the counties which Harald Hardrada had 
overrun, when the tidings reached him that Duke William of Nor- 
mandy and his host had landed on the Sussex shore. Harold in- 
stantly hurried southward to meet this long-expected enemy. The 
severe loss which his army had sustained in the battle with the 
Norwegians must have made it impossible for many of his veteran 
troops to accompany him in his forced march to London, and thence 
to Sussex. He halted at the capital only six days, and during that 
time gate orders for collecting forces from the southern and mid- 
land counties, and also directed his fleet to reassemble off the 
Sussex coast. Harold was well received in London, and his sum- 
mons to arms was promptly obeyed by citizen, by thane, by 
sokman, and by ceorl, for he had shown himself, during his brief 
reign, a just and wise king affable to all men, active for the good of 
his country, and (in the words of the old historian) sparing him- 
self from no fatigue by land or by sea. * He might have gathered a 
much more numerous army than that of William ; but his recent 
victory had made him over-confident, and he was irritated by the 

* See Roger de Hoveden and William of Malmestoury, cited in Tliierry. 
book iii. 



158 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

reports of the country being ravaged by the invaders. As soon, 
therefore, as he had collected a small army in London, he marched 
off toward the coast, pressing forward as rapidly as his men could 
traverse Surrey and Sussex, in the hope of taking the Normans un- 
awares, as he had recently, by a similar forced march, succeeded in 
surprising the Norwegians. But he had now to deal with a foe 
equally brave with Harald Hardrada, and far more skilful and 
wary. 

The old Norman chroniclers describe the preparations of William 
on his landing with a graphic vigor, which would be wholly lost 
by transfusing their racy Norman couplets and terse Latin prose 
into the current style of modern history. It is best to follow them 
closely, though at the expense of much quaintness and occasional 
uncouthness of expression. They tell us how Duke William's 
own ship was the first of the Norman fleet. It was called the Mora, 
and was the gift of his duchess, Matilda. On the head of the ship, 
in the front, which mariners called the prow, there was a brazen 
child bearing an arrow with a bended bow. His face was turned 
toward England, and thither he looked as though he was about to 
shoot. The breeze became soft and sweet, and the sea was smooth 
for their landing. The ships ran on dry land, and each ranged by 
the other's side. There you might see the good sailors, the ser- 
geants, and squires sally forth and unload the ships ; cast the 
anchors, haul the roj)es, bear out shields and saddles, and land 
the war-horses and the palfreys. The archers came forth, and 
touched land the first, each with his bow strung, and with his 
quiver full of arrows slung at his side. All were shaven and shorn ; 
and all clad in short garments, ready to attack, to shoot, to wheel 
about and skirmish. All stood well equipped, and of good courage 
for the fight ; and they scoured the whole shore, but found not an 
armed man there. After the archers had thus gone forth, the 
knights landed all armed, with their hauberks on, their shields 
slung at their necks, and their helmets laced. They formed 
together on the shore, each armed, and mounted on his war-horse ; 
all had their swords girded on, and rode forward into the country 
with their lances raised. Then the carpenters landed, who had 
great axes in their hands, and planes and adzes hung at their sides. 
They took counsel together, and sought for a good spot to place a 
castle on. They had brought with them in the fleet three wooden 
castles from Normandy in loieces, all ready for framing together, 
and they took the materials of one of these out of the ships, all 
shaped and pierced to receive the pins which they had brought 
cut and ready in large barrels ; and before evening had set in, they 
had finished a good fort on the English ground, and there they 
placed their stores. All then ate and drank enough, and were 
right glad that they were ashore. 

When Duke William himself landed, as he stepped on the shore, 
he slipped and fell forward upon his two hands. Forthwith all 



BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 159 

raised a loud cry of distress. "An evil sign," said they, -'is here." 
But he cried out lustily, "See, my lords, by the splendor of God,* 
I have taken possession of England with both my hands. It is 
now mine, and what is mine is yours." 

The next day they marched along the sea-shore to Hastings. 
Near that place the duke fortified a camp, and set up the two other 
wooden castles. The foragers, and those who looked out for booty, 
seized all the clothing and provisions they could find lest what 
had been brought by the ships should fail them. And the English 
were to be seen fleeing befoie them, driving off their cattle, and 
quitting their houses. Many took shelter in burying-places, and 
even there they were in grievous alarm. 

Besides the marauders from the Norman camp, strong bodies of 
cavalry were detached by William into the country, and these, 
when Harold and his army made their rapid march from London 
southward, fell back in good order upon the main body of the 
Normans, and reported that the Saxon king was rushing on like a 
madman. But Harold, when he found that his hopes of surprising 
his adversary were vain, changed his tactics, and halted about seven 
miles from the Norman lines. He sent some spies, who spoke the 
French language, to examine the number and preparations of the 
enemy, who, on their return, related with astonishment that there 
were more priests in "William's camp than there were fighting men 
in the English army. They had mistaken for priests all the Norman 
soldiers who had short hair and shaven chins, for the English lay- 
men were then accustomed to wear long hair and mustachios. 
Harold, who knew the Norman usages, smiled at their words, and 
said, "Those whom you have seen in such numbers are not priests, 
but stout soldiers, as they will soon make us feel " 

Harold's army was far inferior in number to that of the Normans, 
and some of his captains advised him to retreat ujDon London, and 
lay waste the countrj'^, so as to starve down the strength of the 
invaders. The policy thus recommended was unquestionably the 
wisest, for the Saxon fleet had now reassembled, and intercepted 
all William's communications with Normandy ; and as soon as his 
stores of provisions were exhausted, he must have moved forward 
upon London, where Harold, at the head of the full military 
strength of the kingdom, could have defied his assault, and prob- 
ably might have witnessed his rival's destruction by famine and 
disease without having to strike a single blow. But Harold's bold 
blood was up, and his kindly heart could not endure to inflict on 
his South Saxon subjects even the temporary misery of wasting the 
country. "He would not burn houses and villages, neither would 
he take away the substance of his people." 

Harold's brothers, Gurth and Leofwine, were with him in the 
camp, and Gurth endeavored to persuade him to absent him-self 

* William's customary oatJi. 



ICO IlECTSIVE BATTLES. 

from the battle. The incident shows how well devised had been 
WilUiun's scheme of bindinoj Harold by the oath on the holy relics. 
" . y brother," said the young Saxon prince, "thou canst not deny 
<Lat either by force or tree will thou hast made Duke William an 
oath on the bodies of saints. "Why then risk thyself in the battle 
with a perjury upon thee? To us, who have sworn nothing, this is 
a holy and a just war, for we are fighting for our country. Leave 
us then alone to fight this battle, and he who has the right will 
win. " Harold replied that he woul d not look on whilo others risked 
their lives for him. Men would hold him a coward, and blame 
him for sending his best friends where he dared not go himself. 
He resolved, therefore, to fight, and to fight in person ; but he was 
still too good a general to be the assailant in the action ; and he 
posted his army with great skill along a ridge of rising ground 
which opened southwaixl, and was covered on the back by an exten- 
sive wood. He strengthened his position by a palisade of stakes 
and osier hurdles, and there he said he would defend himself 
against whoever should seek him. 

The ruins of Battle Abbey at this hour attest the place where 
Harold's army was posted ; and the high altar of the abbey stood 
on the very spot where Harold's own standard was planted during 
the fight, and where the carnage was the thickest. Immediately 
after his victory, William vowed to build an abbey on the site ; 
and a fi\ir and stately pile soon rose there, where for many ages 
the monks prayed and said masses for the souls of those who were 
slain in the battle, whence the abbey took its name. Before that 
time the place was called Senlac. Little of the ancient edifice 
now remains ; but it is easy to trace in the park and the neighbor- 
hood the scenes of the chief incidents in the action ; and it is im- 
possible to deny the generalship shown by Harold in stationing 
his men, especially when we bear in mind that he was deficient in 
cavalry, the arm in which his adversary's main strength consisted. 

"William's only chance of safety lay in bringing on a general 
engagement ; and he joyfully advanced his army from their camp 
on" the hill over Hastings, nearer to the Saxon position. But he 
neglected no means of weakening his opponent, and renewed his 
summonses and demands on Harold with an ostentatious air of 
sanctity and moderation. 

" A monk, named Hugues Maigrot, came in "William's name to 
call upon the Saxon king to do one of three things — either to 
resign his royalty in favor of William, or to refer it to the arbitra- 
tion of the pope to decide which of the two ought to be king, or to let 
it be determined by the issiie of a single combat. Harold abruptly 
replied, ' I will not resign my title, I will not refer it to the pope, 
nor will I accept the single combat.' He was far from being defi- 
cient in bravery ; but he was no more at liberty to stake the 
crown which he had received from a whole people in the chance 
of a duel, than to deposit it in the hands of an Italian priest 



BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 162 

"William, not at all ruffled by the Saxon's refusal, but steadily' pur- 
suing the course of his calculated measures, sent the Norman 
monk again, after giving him these instructions ;' Go and tell 
Harold that if he will keep his former compact with me, I will 
leave to him all the country which is beyond the Humber, and 
will give his brother Gurth all the lands which Godwin held. 
If he still persist in refusing my offers, then thou shalt tell him, 
before all his people, that he is a perjurer and a liar ; that he and 
all who shall support him are excommunicated by the mouth of the 
pope, and that the bull to that effect is in my hands. * 

" Hugues Maigrot delivered this message in a solemn tone; 
and the Norman chronicle says that at the word excornmMnication, 
the English chiefs looked at one another as if some great danger 
were impending. One of them then spoke as follows : 'We must 
fight, whatever may be the danger to us ; for what we have to con- 
sider is not whether we shall accej^t and receive a new lord, as if 
our king were dead; the case is quite otherwise. The Norman has 
given our lands to his captains, to his knights, to all his people, 
the greater part of whom have already done homage to him for 
them ; they will all look for their gift if their duke become our 
king ; and he himself is bound to deliver up to them our goods, 
our wives, and our daughters : all is promised to them beforehand. 
They come, not only to ruin us, but to ruin our descendants also 
and to take from us the country of our ancestors. And what shall 
we do — whither shall we go, when we have no longer a country? ' 
The English promised, by a unanimous vote to make neither 
peace, nor truce, nor treaty with the invader, but to die, or drive 
away the Normans."* 

The 13th of October was occupied in these negotiations,- and at 
night the duke announced to his men, that the next day would be 
the day of battle. That night is said to have been passed by the 
two armies in very different manners. The Saxon soldiers spent 
it in joviality, singing their national songs, and draining huge 
horns of ale and wine round their camp-fires. The Normans, 
when they had looked to their arms and horses, confessed them- 
selves to the priests with whom their camp was thronged, and re- , 
ceived the sacrament by thousands at a time. 

On Saturday, the 14th of October was fought the great battle. 
It is not difficult to compose a narrative of its principal incidents 
from the historical information which we possess, especially if aided 
by an examination of the ground. But it is far better to adopt the 
spirit-stirring words of the old chroniclers, who wrote while the 
recollections of the battle were yet fresh, and while the feelings 
and prejudices of the combatants yet glowed in the bosoms of 
living men. Robert Wace, the Norman poet, who presented his 
"Bomau de Eou" to our Henry II., is the most picturesque and 

* Thierry. 
D.B.-6 ^ 



162 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

animated of the old writers, and from him we can obtain a more 
Tivid and full description of the conflict than even the most brilliant 
romance-writer of the present time can supply. We have also an 
antique memorial of the battle more to be relied on than either 
chronicler or poet (and which confirms Wace's narrative remark- 
ably) in the celebrated Bayeux tapestry which represents the 
principal scenes of Duke William's expedition, and of the 
circumstances connected with it, in minute, though occasionally 
grotesque details, and which was undoubtedly the production 
of the same age in which the battle took place, whether we admit 
or reject the legend that Queen Matilda and the ladies of her 
court wrought it with their own hands in honor of the royal 
conqueror. 

Let us therefore ouffer the old Norman chronicler to transport 
our imaginations to the fair Sussex scenery northwest of Hastings, 
as it appeared on the morning of the fourteenth of October, seven 
hundred and eighty -five years ago. 'I he Korman host is pouring 
forth from its tents, and each troop and each company is forming 
fast under the banner of its leader. The massess have been sung, 
which were finished betimes in the morning ; the barons have all 
assembled round Duke AVilliam ; and the duke has ordered that 
the army shall be formed in three divisions, so as to make the 
attack upon the Saxon position in three places. The duke stood 
on a hill where he could best see his men ; the barons surrounded 
him, and he spake to them proudly. He told them how he trusted 
them, and how all that he gained should be theirs, and how sure 
he felt of conquest, for in all the world there was not so brave an 
army, or such good men and true as were then forming around 
him. Then they cheered him in turn, and cried out, " 'You will 
not see one coward ; none here will fear to die for love of you, if 
need be.' And he answered them, ' I thank you well. For God's 
sake, spare not ; strike hard at the beginning ; stay not to take 
spoil ; all the booty shall be in common, and there will be plenty 
for every one. There will be no safety in asking quarter or in 
flight ; the English will never love or spare a Norman. Eelons 
they were, and felons they are ; false they were, and false they will 
be. Show no weakness toward them, for they will have no pity 
on you : neither the coward for running well, nor the bold man 
for smiting well, will be the better liked by the English, nor will 
any be the more spared on either account. You may fly to the sea, 
but you can fly no farther ; you will find neither ships nor bridge 
there; there will be no sailors to receive you ; and the English will 
overtake you there, and slay you in your shame. More of you will 
die in flight than in battle. Then, as flight will not secure you, 
fight, and you will conquer. I have no doubt of the victory : we 
are come for glory ; the victory is in our hands, and we may make 
sure of obtaining it if we so please.' As the duke was -^peaking 
thus, and would yet have spoken mor e, William Fitz Osbci rode up 



£A TTLE OF HASTINGS. 163 

with, his horse all coated witli iron : 'Sire,' said he, • we tarry here 
too long ; let ns all arm ourselves. Allans ! Allons ! ' 

" Then all went to their tents, and armed themselves as they best 
might ; and the duke was very busy, giving every one his orders ; 
and he was courteous to all the vassals, giving away many arms 
and horses to them. When he prepared to arm himself, he called 
first for his good hauberk, and a man brought it on his arm, and 
placed it before him, but in putting his head in to get it on, he 
unawa"es turned it the wrong way, with the back part in front. He 
soon changed it ; but when he saw that those who stood by were 
sorely alarmed, he said, 'I have seen many a man who, if such a 
thing had happened to him, would not have borne arms, or entered 
the field the same day ; but I never believed in omens, and I never 
will. I trust in God, for he does in all things his pleasure, and 
ordains what is to come to pass according to his will. I have never, 
liked fortune-tellers, nor believed in diviners ; but I commend 
myself to Our Lady, Let not this mischance give you trouble. 
The hauberk which was turned wrong, and then set right by me, 
signifies that a change will arise out of the matter which we are 
now stirring. You shall see the name of duke changed into king. 
Yea, a king shall I be, who hitherto have been but duke.' Then 
he crossed himself, and straightway took his hauberk, stooped his 
head, and put it on aright ; and laced his helmet, and girt on his 
sword, which a varlet brought him. Then the duke called for his 
good horse — a better could not be found. It had been sent him 
by a king of Spain, out of very great friendship. Neither arms nor 
the press of fighting men did it fear, if its lord spurred it on. 
Walter Giffard brought it. The duke stretched out his hand, took 
the reins, put foot in stirrup, and mounted ; and tho good horse 
pawed, pranced, reared himself up, and curveted. The Viscount 
of Toarz saw how the duke bore himself in arms, and said to his 
people that were around him, 'Never have I seen a man so fairly 
armed, nor one who rod e so gallantlj'', or bore his arms, or became 
his hauberk so well; neither any cue who bore his lance so grace- 
fully, or sat his horse and managed him so nobly. There is no 
such knight under heaven ! a fair count he is, and fair king he will 
be. Let him fight, and he shall overcome ; shame be to the man 
who shall fail him,' 

" Then the duke called for the standard which the pope had 
sent him, and he who bore it having unfolded it, the duke took it 
and called to Eaol de Conches. 'Bear my standard,' said he 'for 
I would not but do you right ; by right and by ancestry your line 
are standard-bearers of Normandy, and very good knights have 
they all been,' But Eaol said that he would serve the duke that 
day in other guise, and would fight the English with his hand as 
long as life should last. Then the duke bade Galtier Giffart bear 
the standard. But he was old and white-headed, and bade the 
duke give the standard to some younger and stronger map to 



164 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

carry. Then the duke said fiercely, ' By the splendor of God, my 
lords, I think yon mean to betray and fail me in this great need.' 
•Sire," said Giffart, ' not so we have done no treason, nor do I 
refuse from any felony toward you ; bnt I have to lead a great 
chivaliy, both hired men and the men of my fief. Never had I 
such good means of serving yon as ^^ now have ; and if God please, 
I will serve yon ; if need be, I will die for you, and will give my 
own heart for yours.' 

" 'By my faith,' qnoth the duke, 'I always love thee, and now I 
love thee more ; if I survive this day, thon shalt be the better for 
it all thy days.' Then he called out a knight, whom he had heard 
much praised, Tosteins Fitz-Eou le Blanc by name, whose abode 
was at Beo-en-Caux. To him he delivered the standard ; and Tos- 
teins took it right cheerfully, and bowed low to him in thanks, 
and bore it gallantly, and with good heart. His kindred still have 
quittance of all service for their inheritance on this account, and 
their heirs ore entitled so to hold their inheritance forever. 

' William sat on his war-horse, and called out Kogier, whom 
they call De Montgomeri. 'I rely much on you,' said he ; 'lead 
yoiir men thitherward, and attack them from that side. "William, 
the son of Osber, the seneschal, a right good vassal, shall go with 
yon and help in the attack, and yon shall have the men of Boilogne 
and Poix, and all my soldiers. Alain Fergert and ximeri shall at- 
tack on the other side ; they shall lead the Poitevins and the 
Bretons, and all the barons of Maine ; and I, with my own great 
men, my friends and kindred, will fight in the middle throng, 
where the battle shall be the hottest. 

•' The barons, and knights, and men-at-arms were all now armed; 
the foot-soldiers were well equipped, each bearing bow and sword; 
on their heads were caps, and to their feet were bound buskins. 
Some had good hides which they had bound roimd their bodies; 
and many were clad in frocks, and had quivers and bows 
hung to their girdles. The knights had hauberks and swords, 
boots of steel, and shining helmets ; shields at their necks, and 
in their hands lances. And all had their cognizances, so that 
each might know his fellow, and Norman might not strike 
Norman, nor Frenchman kill his countryman by mistake. Those 
on foot led the way, with serried ranks, bearing their bows. 
The knights rode next, supporting the archers from behind. 
Thus both horse and foot kept their course and order of march as 
they began, in close ranks at a gentle pace, that the one might not 
pass or separate from the other. All went fii-mly and compactly, 
bearing themselves gallantly. 

"Harold had summoned his men, earls, barons, and vavassors, 
from the castles and the cities, from the ports, the villages, and 
borou'^hs. The peasants were also called together from the A'il- 
lages, bearing such arms as they found ; clubs and great picks. 
iron foriis and stakes. The English had inclosed the place where 



BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 165 

Harold was "with his friends and the barons of the country whom 
he had summoned and called together. 

"Those of London had came at once, and those of Kent, of 
Hertfort, and of Essesse ; those of Suree and Susesse, of St. Ed- 
mund and Sufoc ; of Norwis and Norfoc ; of Cantorbierre and Stan- 
fort ; Bedefort and Hundetone. The men of Northanton also 
jeame; and those of Eurowio and Bokinkeham, of Bed and Notinke- 
ham, Lindesie and Nichole. There came also from the west all 
who heard the summons ; and very many were to be seen coming 
jfrom Salebriere and Dorset, from Bat and from Sumerset. Many 
came, too, from about Glocester, and many from Wirecester, from 
Yv^incester, Hontesire, and Brichesire; and many more from other 
counties that we have not named, and cannot, indeed, recount. 
All who could bear arms, and had learned the news of the duke's 
arrival, came to defend the land. But none came from beyond 
Humbre, for they had other business upon their hands, the Danes 
and Tosti having much damaged and weakened them. 

" Harold knew that the Normans would come and attack him 
hand to hand, so he had early inclosed the field in which he 
placed his men. He made them arm early, and range themselves 
for the battle, he himself having put on arms and equipments that 
became such a lord. The duke, he said, ought to seek him, as he 
wanted to conquer England ; and it became him to abide the at- 
tack who had to defend the land. He commanded the people, and 
counseled his barons to keep themselves all together, and defend 
themselves in a body ; for if they once separated they would with 
difficulty recover themselves. 'The Normans,' said he, 'are good 
vassals, valiant on foot and on horseback ; good knights are they 
on horseback, and well used to battle ; all is lost if they once pen- 
etrate our ranks. They have brought long lances and swords, 
but you have pointed lances and keen-edged bills; and I do not 
expect that their arms can stand against yours. Cleave whenever 
you can ; it will be ill done if you spare aught.' 

" The English had built up a fence before them with their 
shields, and with ash and other wood, and had well joined and 
wattled in the whole work, so as not to leave even a crevice ; and 
thus they had a barricade in their front, through which any Nor- 
man who would attack them must first pass. Being covered in 
this way by their shields and barricades, their aim was to defend 
themselves ; and if they had remained steady for that purpose, 
they would not have been conquered that day ; for every Norman 
who made his way in, lost his life in dishonor, either by hatchet 
or bill, by club or other weapon. They wore short and close 
hauberks, and helmets that hung over their garnients. King 
Harold issued orders, and made proclamation round, that all 
should be ranged with their faces toward the enemy, and that no 
one should move from where he was, eo that whoever came might 
find them ready ; and that whatever any one, be he Norman or 



166 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

other, sliotild do, each should do his best to defend his own place. 
Then he ordered the men of Kent to go where the Normans were 
likely to make the attack ; for they say that the men of Kent are 
entitled to strike first ; and that whenever the king goes to battle 
the first blow belongs to them. The right of the men of London 
is to guard the king's body, to place themselves around him, and 
to guard his standard ; and they were accordingly placed by the 
standard to watch and defend it. 

"When Harold had made all ready, and given his orders, he 
came into the midst of the English, and dismounted by the side 
of the standard ; Leofwin and Gurth, his brothers, were with him; 
and around him he had barons enough, as he stood by his stand- 
ard, which was, in truth, a noble one, sparkling with gold and 
precious stones. After the victory William sent it to the pope, to 
prove and commemorate his great conquest and glory. The Eng- 
lish stood in close ranks, ready and eager for the fight ; and they, 
moreover, made a fosse, which went across the field, guarding one 
side of their army. 

" Meanwhile the Normans appeared advancing over the ridge of 
a rising ground, and the first division of their troops moved on- 
ward along the hill and across a valley. And presently another 
division, still larger, came in sight, close following upon the first, 
and they were led toward another part of the field, forming to- 
gether as the first body had done. And while Harold saw and 
examined them, and was pointing them out to Gurth, a fresh 
compa,ny came in sight, covering all the plain ; and in the midst 
of them was raised the standard that came from Eome. Near it 
was the duke, and the best men and greatest strength of the army 
were there. The good knights, the good vassals and brave war- 
riors were there ; and there were gathered together the gentle 
barons, the good archers, and the men-at-arms, whose duty it was 
to guard the duke, and range themselves around him. The 
youths and common herd of the camp, whose business was not to 
join in the battle, but to take care of the harness and stores, 
moved off toward a rising ground. The priests and the clerks 
also ascended a hill, there to offer up prayers to God, and watch 
the event of the battle. 

"The English stood firm on foot in close ranks, and carried 
themselves right boldly. Each man had his hauberk on, with his 
sword girt, and his shield at his neck. Great hatchets were also 
slung at their necks, with which they expected to strike heavy 
blows. 

" The Normans brought on the three divisions of their army to 
attack at different places. They set out in three companies ; and 
in three companies did they fight. The first and second had 
come up, and then ad*vancsd the third, which was the greatest ; 
with that came the duke with his own men, and all moved boldly 
forward. 



BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 1C7 

"As soon as the two armies were in full view of each other, 
great noise and tumult arose. You might hear the sound of many 
trumpets, of bugles, and of horns ; and then you might see men 
ranging themselves in line, lifting their shields, raising their 
lances, bending their bows, handling their arrows, ready for as- 
sault and defense. 

" The English stood steady to their post, the Normans still moved 
on ; and when they drew near, the English were to be seen stir- 
ring to and fro ; were going and coming ; troops ranging -them- 
selves in order ; some with their color rising, others turning pale; 
Bome making ready their arms, others raising their shields ; the 
brave man rousing himself to fight, the coward trembling at the 
approach of danger. 

" Then Taillefer, who sang right well, rode, mounted on a swift 
horse, before the duke, singing of Charlemagne and of Eoland of 
Oliver, and the peers who died in Koncesvalles. And when they 
drew nigh to the English, ' A boon, sire ! ' cried Taillefer ; ' I have 
longed served you, and you owe me for all such service. To-day, 
so please you, you shall repay it. I ask as my guerdon, and be' 
seech you for it earnestly, that yow will allow me to strike tne first 
blow in the battle !' And the duke answered, 'I grant it.' Then 
Taillefer put his horse to a gallop, charging before all the 
rest, and struck an Englishman dead, driving his lance below the 
breast into his body, and stretching him upon the ground. Then 
he drew his sword, and struck another, crying out, 'Come on, 
come on ! What do ye, sirs ? lay on, lay on !' At the second blow 
he struck, the English pushed forward, and surrounded, and slew 
him. Forthwith arose the noise and cry of war, and on either 
side the people put themselves in motion. 

" The Normans moved on to the assault, and the English de- 
fended themselves well. Some were striking, others urging on- 
ward ; all were bold, and cast aside fear. And now, behold, that 
battle was gathered whereof the fame is yet mighty. 

"Loud and far resounded the bray of the horns ; and the shocks 
of the lances, the mighty strokes of maces, and the quick clashing 
of swords. One while the Englishmen rushed on, another while 
they fell back ; one while the men from over sea charged onward, 
and again at other times retreated. The Normans shouted Dex 
Aie, the English peojole Out. Then came the cunning maneuvers, 
the rude shocks and strokes of the lance, and blows of the swords, 
among the sergeants and soldiers, both English and Norman. 

"When the English fall the Normans shout. Each side taunts 
and defies the other, yet neither knoweth what the other saith ,- 
and the Normans say the English bark, because they understand 
not their speech. 

"Some wax strong, others weak : the brave exult, but the cow- 
ards tremble, as men who are sore dismayed. The Normans press 
on the assault, and the English defend their post well • they pierce 



168 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

the hanberiis, and cleave the shields, receive and return mighty 
blows. Again, some press forward, others yield ; and thus, in va- 
rious ways, the struggle proceeds. In the plain was a fosse, which 
the Normans had now behind them, having passed it in the fight 
without regarding it. But the English charged and drove the 
Normans before them till they made them fall back upon this 
fosse, overthrowing into it horses and men. Many were to be 
seen falling therein, rolling one over the other, with their faces to 
the earth, and unable to rise. Many of the English, also, whom 
the Normans drew down along with them, died there. At no time 
during the day's battle did so many Normans die as perished in 
that fosse. So those said who saw the dead. 

" The varlets who w^ere set to guard the harness began to aban- 
don it as they saw the loss of the Frenchmen, when thrown back 
upon the fosse without power to recover themselves. Being greatly 
alarmed at seeing the difficulty in restoring order, they began to 
quit the harness, and sought around, not knowing where to find 
shelter. Then Duke William's brother, Odo, the good priest, the 
Bishop of Bayeux, gailoped up, and said to them, ' Stand fast ! 
stand fast ! be quiet and move not ! fear nothing ; for, if God 
please, we shall conquer yet.' So they took courage, and rested 
where they were ; and Odo returned galloping back to where the 
battle was most fierce, and was of great service on that day. He 
had put a hauberk on over a white aube, wide in the body, with 
the sleeve tight, and sat on a white horse, so that all might recog- 
nize him. In his hand he held a mace, and wherever he saw most 
need he held up and stationed the knights, and often urged them 
on to assault and strike the enemy. 

"From nine o'clock in the morning, when the combat began, 
till three o'clock came, the battle was up and down, this way and 
that, and no one knew who would conquer and win the land. 
Both sides stood so firm and fought so well, that no one could 
guess which would prevail. The Norman archers with their bows 
shot thickly upon the English; but they covered themselves with 
their shields, so that the arrows could not reach their bodies, nor 
do any mischief, how true soever was their aim, or however well 
they shot. Then the Normans determined to shoot their arrows 
upward into the air, so that they might fall on their enemies' 
heads, and strike their faces. The archers adopted this scheme, 
and shot up into the air toward the English ; and the arrows, in 
falling, struck their heads and faces, and put out the eyes of 
many ; and all feared to open their eyes, or leave their faces un- 
guarded. 

"The arrows now flew thicker than rain before the wind ; fast 
sped the shafts that the English call ' wibetes.' Then it was that 
an arrow, that had been thus shot upward, struck Harold above 
his right eye, and put it out. In his agony he drew the arrow and 
threw it away, breaking it with his hands ; and the pain to his head 



BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 169 

was so great that he leaned iipon his shield. So the English were 
wont to say, and still say to the French, that the arrow was well 
shot which was so sent up against their king, and that the archer 
won them great glory who thus put out Harold's eye. 

"The Normans saw that the English defended themselves well, 
and were so strong in their position that they could do little 
.against them. So they consulted together privily, and arranged 
to draw off, and pretend to flee, till the English should pursue 
and scatter themselves over the field ; for they saw that if they 
could once get their enemies to break their ranks, they might be 
attacked and discomfitted much more easily. As they had said, 
so they did. The Normans by little and little fled, the English 
following them. As the "one fell back, the other pressed after; and 
when the Frenchmen retreated, the English thought and cried out 
that the men of France fled, and would never return. 

"Thus they were deceived by the pretended flight, and great 
mischief thereby befell them ; for if they had not moved from 
,their position, it is not likely that they would have been con- 
quered at all ; but, like fools, they broke their lines and pursued. 

"The Normans were to be seen following up their stratagem, 
retreating slowly so as to draw the English farther on. As they 
still flee, the English pursue ; they push out their lances and 
stretch forth their hatchets, following the Normans as they go, re- 
joicing in the success of their scheme, and scattering themselves 
over the plain. And the English meantime jeered and insulted 
their foes with words. 'Cowards,' they cried, 'you came hither 
in an evil hour, wanting our lands, and seeking to seize our prop- 
erty, fools that ye were to come ! Normandy is too far off, and 
you will not easily reach it. It is of little use to run back ; unless 
you can cross the sea at a leap, or can drink it dry, your sons and 
daughters are lost to you. ' 

" The Normans bore it all ; but, in fact, they knew not what the 
English said : their language seemed like the baying of dogs which 
they could not understand. At length they stopped and turned 
round, determined to recover their ranks ; and the barons might 
be heard crying dex aie ! for a halt. Then the Normans resumed 
their former position, turning their faces toward the enemy ; and 
their men were to be seen facing round and rushing onward to a 
fresh melee, the one party assaulting the other ; this man striking, 
another pressing onward. One hits, another misses; one flies, an- 
other pursues; one is aiming a stroke, while another discharges 
his blow. Norman strives with Englishman again, and aims his 
blows afresh. One flies, another pursues swiftly: the combatants 
are many, the plain wide, the battle and the melee fierce. On every 
hand they fight hard, the blows are heavy, and the struggle be- 
comes fierce. 

" The Normans were playing their part well, when an English 
knight came rushing up, having in his company a hundred men. 



170 DECISI VE BA TTLES. 

furnished -with yarious arms. He "wielded a northern hatchet, 
with the blade a full foot long, and was well armed after his man- 
ner, being tall, bold, and of noble carriage. In the front of the 
battle, where the Normans thronged most, he came bounding on 
swifter than the stag, many Normans falling before him and his 
company. He rushed straight upon a Norman who was armed 
and riding on a war-house, and tried with his hatchet of steel to 
cleave his helmet ; but the blow miscarried, and the sharp blade 
glanced down before the saddle-bow, driving through the horse's 
neck down to the ground, so that both horse and master fell to- 
gether to the earth. I know not whether the Englishman struck 
another blow; but the Normans who saw the stroke were as- 
tonished, and about to abandon the assault, when Koger de Mont- 
gomeri came galloping up, with his lance set, and heeding not the 
long-handled axe which the Englishman wielded aloft, struck him 
down, and left him stretched on the ground. Then Eoger cried 
out, ' Frenchmen, strike ! the day is ours ! ' And again a fierce 
melee was to be seen, with many a blow of lance and sword ; the 
English still defending themselves, killing the horses and cleaving 
the shields. 

"There was a French soldier of noble mien, who sat his horse 
gallantly. He spied two Englishmen who were also carrying 
themselves boldly. They were both men of great worth, and had 
become companions in arms and fought together, the one protect- 
ing the other. They bore two long and broad bills, and did great 
mischief to the Normans, killing both horses and men. The 
French soldier looked at them and their bills, and was sore 
alarmed, for he was afraid of losing his good horse, the best that 
he had, and would willingly have turned to some other quarter, 
if it would not have looked like cowardice. He soon, however, 
recovered his courage, and, spurring his horse, gave him the bri- 
dle, and galloped swiftly forward. Fearing the two bills, he 
raised his shield, and struck one of the Englishmen with liis lance 
on the breast, so that the iron passed out at his back. At the mo- 
ment that he fell, the lance broke, and the Frenchman seized the 
mace that hung at his right side, and struck the other Englishman 
a blow that completely fractured his skull. 

"On the other side was an Englishman who much annoyed the 
French, continually assaulting them with a keen-edged hatchet. 
He had a helmet made of wood, which he had fastened down to 
his coat, and laced round his neck, so that no blows could reach 
his head. The ravage he was making was seen by a gallant Nor- 
man knight, who rode a horse that neither fire nor water could 
stop in its career, when its master urged it on. The knight 
spurred, and his horse carried him on well till he charged the 
Englishman, striking him over the helmet, so that it fell down 
over his eyes; and as he stretched out his hand to raise it and 
uncover his face, the Normajo. cut off his right hand, so that hia 



BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 171 

hatchet fell to the grotiiid. Another Norman sprang forward and 
eagerly seized the prize with both his hands, but he kept it little 
space, and paid dearly for it, for as he stooped to pick up the 
hatchet, an Englishman with his lond-handled axe struck him 
over the back, breaking all his bones, so that his entrails and 
lungs gushed forth. The knight of the good horse meantime re- 
turned without injury; but on his way he met another English- 
man, and bore him down under his horse, wounding him griev- 
ously, and trampling him altogether under foot. ( 

"And now might be heard the loud clang and cry of battle, and ' 
the clashing of lances. The English stood firm in their barricades, 
and shivered the lances, beating them into pieces with their bills 
and maces. The Normans drew their swords and hewed down 
the barricades, and the English, in great trouble, fell back upon 
their standard, where were collected the maimed and wounded. 

"There wany knights of Chaiiz who jousted and made attacks. 
The English knew not how to joust, or bear arms on horseback, 
but fought with hatchets and bills. A man, when he wanted to 
strike with one of their hatchets, was obliged to hold it with both 
his hands, and could not at the same time, as it seems to me, both 
cover himself and strike with any freedom. 

" The English fell back toward the standard, which was upon 
a rising ground, and the Normans followed them across the val- 
ley, attacking them on foot and horseback. Then Hue de Mor- 
tem er, with the Sires D'Auviler, D'Onebac, and Saint Cler, rode up 
and charged, overthrowing many. 

"Bobert Fitz Erneis fixed his lance, took his shield, and, gallop- 
ing toward the standard, with his keen-edged sword struck an 
Englishman who was in front, killed him, and then drawing back 
his Hword, attacked many others, and pushed straight for the stand- 
ard, trying to beat it down ; but the English surrounded it, and 
killed him with their bills. He was found on the spot, when they 
afterward sought for him dead and lying at the standard's foot. 

" Duke William pressed close upon the English with his lance 
striving hard to reach the standard with the great troop he led and 
seeking earnestly for Harold, on whose account the whole war was. 
The Normans follow their lord, and press around him, they ply 
their blows upon the English ; and these defend themselves stout- 
ly, striving hard with their enemies, returning blow for blow. 

" One of them was a man of great strength, a wrestler, who did 
great mischief to the Normans with his hatchet ; all feared him, for 
he struck doMn a great many Normans. The duke spurred on his 
horse, and aimed a blow at him, but he stooped, and so escaped 
the stroke ; then jumping on one side, he lilted his hatchet aloft, 
and as the duke bent to avoid the blow, the Englishman boldly 
struck him on the head, and beat in his helmet though without 
doing much injury. He was very near falling however ; but, 
bearing on his stirrups, he recovered himself immediately ; and 



172 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

when he thought to have revenged himself upon the churl by kill- 
ing him, he had escaped, dreading the duke's blow. He ran back 
in among the English, but he was not safe even there ; for the Nor- 
mans, seeing him, pnrsned and caught him, and having pierced 
him through and through with their lances, left him dead on the 
ground. 

'• Where the throng of the battle was greatest, the men of Kent 
and Essex fought wondrously well, and made the Normans again 
retreat, but without doing them much injiiry. And when the duke 
saw his men lall back, and the English triumphing over them, his 
spirit rose high, and he seized his shield and his lance, which a 
vassal handed to him, and took his post by his standard. 

"Then those who kept close guard by him, and rode where he 
rode, being about a thousand armed men, came and rushed with 
closed ranks upon the English ; and with the weight of their good 
horses, and the blows the knights gave, broke the press of the 
enemy, and scattered the crowd before them, the good duke lead- 
ing them on in front. ]\Iany pursiiod and many tied ; many were 
the Englishmen who fell around, and were trampled under the 
horses, crawling upon the eai*th, and not able to rise. Manj-^ of 
the richest and noblest men fell in the rout, but still the English 
rallied in places, smote down those whom they reached, and main- 
tained the combat the best they could, beating down the men and 
killing the horses. One Englishman watched the duke, and 
plotted to kill him ; he would have struck him with his lance, but 
he could not, for the duke struck him tirst, and felled him to the 
earth. 

'•Loud was now the clamor, and great the slaughter; many a 
soul then quitted the body it inhabited. The living marched over 
the heaps of dead, and each side was weary of striking. He 
charged on who could, and he who could no longer strike still 
pushed forward. The strong struggled with the strong ; some 
failed, others triumphed ; the cow^ards fell back, the brave pressed 
on ; and sad was his fate who fell in the midst, for he had little 
chance of rising again ; and many in truth fell who never rose at 
all, being crushed under the throng. 

"And now the Normans had pressed on so far, that at last they 
had reached the standard. There Harold had remained, defend- 
ing himself to the iitmost ; but he was sorely wounded in his eye 
by the arrow, and suffered grievous pain from the blow. An armed 
man came in the throng of the battle, and struck him on the ven- 
taille of his helmet, and beat him to the ground ; and as he sought 
to recover himself, a knight beat him down again, striking him on 
the thick of his thigh down to the bone. 

' ' Gurth saw tlie English falling around, and that there was 
no remedy. He saw his race hastening to ruin, and despaired of any 
aid; he would have Hed, but could not, for the throng continually 
increased. And the duke pushed on till he reached him, and 



BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 173 

struck him with great force. "Whether he died of that blow I know 
not, but it was said that he fell under it, and rose no more. 

" The standard was beaten down, the golden standard was taken, 
and Harold and the best of his friends were slain; but there was so 
much eagerness, and throng of so many around, seeking to kill him 
that I know not who it was that slew him. 

" The English were in great trouble at ha'ving lost their king, and 
at the duke's having conquered and beat down the standard ; but 
they still fought on, and defended themselves long, and in fact till 
the day drew to a close. Then it clearly appeared to all that the 
standard was lost, and the news Lad spread throughout the army 
that Harold, for certain, was dead; and all saw that there was no 
longer any hojje, so they left the tield, and those fled who could. 

" William fought well; many an assault did he lead, manyablow 
did he give, and many receive, and many fell dead under his hand. 
Two horses were killed under him, and he took a third when neces- 
sary, so that he fell not to the ground, and lost not a drop of blood, 
But whatever any one did, and whoever lived or died, this is cer- 
tain, that William conquered, and that many of the English fled 
from the field, and many died on the spot. Then he returned 
thanks to God, and in his pride ordered his standard to be brought 
and set up on high where the English standard had stood; and 
that was the signal of his having conquered, and beaten down the 
standard. And he ordered his tent to be raised on the spot among 
the dead, and had his meat brought thither, and his supper pre- 
pared there. 

"Then he took of his armor; and the barons and knights pages 
and squires came, when he had unstrung his shield; and they took 
the helmet from his head, and the hauberk from his back, and saw 
the heavy blows upon his shield, and how his helmet was dinted 
in, and all greatly wondered, and said ' Such a baron (ber) never 
bestrode war-horse, nor dealt such blows, nor did such feats of 
arms; neither has there been on earth such a knight since Rollant 
and Oliver.' 

"Thus they lauded and extolled him greatly, and rejoiced in 
what they saw, but grieving also for their friends who were slain 
in the battle. And the duke stood meanwhile among them, of 
noble stature and mien, and rendered thanks to the king of glory, 
through whom he had the victory ; and thanked the knights around 
him, mourning also frequently for the dead. And he ate and drank 
among the dead, and made his bed that night upon the field. 

"The morrow was Sunday; and those who had slept upon the 
field of battle, keeping watch around and suffering great fatigue, be- 
stirred themselves at break of day, and sought out and buried such 
of the bodies of their friends as they might find. The noble ladies 
of the land also came, some to seek their husbands, and others their 
faihers, sons, or brothers. They bore the bodies to their villages, 
and interred them at the churches; and the clerks and priests of 



174 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

the country were ready, and at the request of their Menus, cook the 
bodies that were found, and prepared graves and lay them therein. 

"KingHaroht was carried and buried at Yarham; but I know 
not who it was that bore him thither, neither do I know who buried 
him. Many remained on the field, and many had fled in the 
,night. 

Such is a Norman account of the battle of Hastings, * which doea 
full justice to the valor of the Saxons as well rsto the skill and 
bravery of the victors. It is inc'^ed evident that the loss of the bat- 
tle by the English was owing to i.he wound which Harold received 
in the afternoon, and which must have incapacitated him from eflec- 
tive command. "When we remember that he had himself just M'on 
the battle of Stamford Bridge over Harold Hardrada by the maneu- 
ver of a feigned flight, it is impossible to suppose that he could be 
deceived by the same stratagem on the part of the Normans at 
Hastings. But his men, when deprived of his control, would very 
naturally be led by their inconsiderate ardor into the pursuit that 
proved so fatal to them. All the narratives of the battle, however 
much they vary as to the precise time and manner of Harold's fall, 
eulogize the generalship and the personal prowess which he dis- 
played, until the fatal arrow struck him. The skill with which he 
had posted his arm 3^ was proved both by the slaughter which it cost 
the Normans to force the position, and also by tiie desperate rally 
which some of the Saxons made after the battle in the forest in the 
rear, in which they cut ofl" a large number of the pursuing Normans. 
This circumstance is particularly mentioned by William of Poic- 
tiers, the Conqueror's own chaplain. Indeed, if Harold, or either 
of his brothers, had survived, the remains of the English army 
might have formed again in the wood, and could at least have ef- 
fected an orderly retreat, and prolonged the war. But both Gurth, 
and Leofwine, and all the bravest Thanes of Southern England lay 
dead on Senlac, around their fallen king and the fallen standard of 
their country. The exact number that perished on the Saxon side 
is unknowr ; but we read that on the side of the victors, out of six- 
sixty thousand men who had been engaged, no less than a fourth 
perished. So well had the English billmen "plyed the ghastly 
IdIow," and so sternly had the Saxon battle-axe cloven Norman 
casque and mail.f The old historian Daniel justly as well as for- 
cibly remarks',^ "Thus was tried, by the greet assize of God's 
judgment in battle, the right of pow^r between the English and 



* In tlie preceding pages I have woven together tke purpureos pannes ' 
of the old chronicler In so doing, I have largely availc^u myself of Mr. Edgar 
Taylor's version of that part of the "Roman de Rou"' which descrit)es the 
conquest. By giving engravtngs from the Bayeux Tapestry, and by his ex- 
cellent notes, Mr. Taylor has added much to the value and interest of his 
volume. 

t 'he Conqueror's Chaplain calls the Saxon Isattle-axes ." seevlssimae 
"etm-eij." i As «ited to tlxe ''Pictorial History.' 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC 175 

Norman nations; a battle the most memorable of all others; and, 
however miserably lost, yet most nobly fought on the part of Eng- 
land- 
Many a pathetic legend was told in aft«r years respecting the 
discovery and the burial of the corpse of omr last Saxon king. The 
main circumstances, though they seem to vary, are perhaps recon- 
cilable.* Two of the monks of Waltham Abbey, which Harold had 
founded a little time before his election to the throne, had accom- 
panied him to the battle^ On the mo ning after the slaughter, 
they begged and gained permission of the Conqueror to search for 
the body of *heir benefactor. The Norman soldiery and camp- 
followers had stripped and gashed the slain, and the two monks 
vainly strove to rocognize from among the mutilated and gory 
heaps around them the features of their former king. They sent 
for Hi.rold's mistress, Edith, surnamed "the Fair," and ''the swan- 
nec'zod/' to aid them. The eye o:.iove proved keener than the eye 
of graatude, and the Saxon lady oven in that Aceldama knew her 
Harold. . 

The king's mother now sought the victorious Norman, and begged 
the dead body of her son. But William at first answered in his 
wrath and the hardness of his heart, that a man who had been 
false to his word r.nd his religion should have no other sepulcher 
than the sand of the shore. He added, v.ith a sneer, "Harold 
mounted guard or\ the coast while he was pAije, he may continue 
his guard now he is dead. " The taunt waa &n unintentional eulogy ; 
and a grave washed by the spray of the Sussex waves would have 
been the noblest burial-place xor tho mai-tyr of Saxon freedom. 
But Harold's mother was urgent in Iier lamentations and her 
prayers ; the Conqueror relented : li>,e Achilles, he gave up the 
uead body of his fallen foe to a jjarent's supplications, and the 
remains of King Harold were depos^ited with regal honors in Wal- 
tham Abbey. 

On Christmas day in the same year William the Conqueror was 
crowned at London King of England. 



Synopsis op Events between the Battle op Hastings, a.d. 1066, 
AND Joan oe Abo's Victoey at Orleans, a.d. 1429. 

A.D. 1066-1087. Reign of William the Conqueror. Frequent 
rising/ s of the English against him, which are quelled with merci- 
less rigor. 

1096. The first Crusade. 



* See them conected m ^ingard, x., 411. «<. seq Thierry, i,'i09; Slian» 
Turner, i.; 82; and Hfstoire de Normandi«\ par Liicguet, p i«42. 



1 76 DECISIVE BA TTLES. 

1112. Commencement of the disputes about investures between 
the emperors and tlie popes. 

1140. Foundation of the city of Lnbec, whence originated the 
Hanseatic League. Commencement of the feuds in Italy between 
the Guelfs and the Ghibellines. 

1146. The second Crusade. 

1154. Henry II. becomes King of England. Under him Thomas 
a Becket is made Archbishop of Canterbury : the first instance of 
any man of the Saxon race being raised to high office in Church or 
State since the Conquest. 

1170. Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, lands with an English army 
in Ireland. 

1189. Eichard Coeur de Lion becomes King of England. He 
and King Philip Augustus of France join in the third Crusade. 

1199-1204. On the death of Kmg Eichard, his brother John 
claims and makes himself master of England and Normandy, and 
the other large continental possessions of the early Plantagenet 
princes. Philip Augustus asserts the cause of Prince Arthur, John's 
nephew, against him. Arthur is murdered, but the French king 
continues the war against John, and conquers from him Normandy, 
Brittany, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, and Poictiers. 

1215. The "barons, the freeholders, the citizens, and the yeomen 
of England rise against the tyranny of John and his foreign favor- 
ites. They compel him to sign Magna Charta. This is the 
commencement of our nationality: for our history from this time 
forth is the history of a national life, then complete and still in 
being. All English history before this period is a mere history of 
elements, of their collisions, and of the processes of their fusion. 
For upward of a century after the Conqiiest, Anglo-Norman and 
Anglo-Saxon had kept aloof from each other: the one in haughty 
scorn, the other in sullen abhorrence. They were two peoples, 
though living in the same land. It is not until the thirteenth 
century, the period of the reigns of John and his son and grand- 
son, that we can perceive the existence of any feeling of common 
nationality among them. But in studying the history of these 
reigns, we read of the old dissensions no longer. The Saxon no 
more appears in civil war against the Norman, the Norman no 
longer scorns the language of the Saxon, or refuses to bear together 
with him the name of Englishman. No part of the community 
think themselves foreigners to another part. They feel that they 
^re all one people, and they have learned to unite their efforts 
for the common purpose of protecting the rights and promoting 
the welfare of all. The fortunate loss of the Duchy of Normandy 
in John's reign greatly promoted these new feelings. Thenceforth 
our barons' only homes were in England. One language had, in 
the reign of Henry HI., become the language of the land, and 
that, also, had then assumed the form in which we still possess it 
One law, in the eye of which all freemen are equal without dis- 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETO. Ill 

tinction of race, "was modeled, and steadily enforced, and still 
continues to form tlie ground-work of our judicial system.* 

1273. Eodolpli of Hapsburg chosen Emperor of Germany. 

1283. Edward I. conquers "Wales. 

1346. Edward III. invades France, and gains the battle of Cressy. 

1356. Battle of Poictiers. 

1360. Treaty of Bretigny between England and France. By it 
Edward III. renounces his pretensions to the French crown. The 
treaty is ill kept, and indecisive hostilities continue between the 
forces of the two countries. 

1414. Henry V. of England claims the crown of France, and 
resolves to invade and conquer that kingdom. At this time France 
was in the most deplorable state of weakness and suffering, from 
the factions that raged among her nobility, and from the cruel 
oppressions which the rival nobles practiced on the mass of the 
community. "The people were exhausted by taxes, civil wars, 
and military executions; and they had fallen into that worst of all 
states of mind, when the independence of one's country is thought 
no longer a paramount and sacred object. 'What can the English 
do to us worse than the thing we suffer at the hands of our own 
princes .-' ' was a common exclamation among the poor people of 
France, "t 

1415. Henry invades France, takes Harfleur, and wins the greai^ 
battle of Agin court. 

1417-1419. Henry conquers Normandy. The French Dauphin 
assassinates the Duke of Burgundy, the most powerful of the 
French nobles, at Montereau. The successor of the murdered 
duke becomes the active ally of the English. 

1420. The treaty of Troyes is concluded between Henry Y. of 
England and Charles VI. of France, and Philip duke of Burgundy. 
By this treaty it was stipulated that Henry should marry the 
Princess Catharine of France; that King Charles, during his life- 
time, should keep the title and dignity of King of France, but 
that Henry should succeed him, and should at once be intrusted 
with the administration of the government, and that the French 
crown should descend to Henry's heirs; that France and England 
should forever be united under one king, but should still retain 
their several usages, customs, and privileges; that all the princes, 
peers, vassals, and communities of France should swear allegiance 
to Henry as their future king, and should pay him present obedi- 
ence as regent. That Henry should unite his arms to those of 
King Charles and the Duke of Burgundy, in order to subdue tde 
adherents of Charles, the pretended dauphin; and that these three 
princes should make no peace or truce with the dauphin but by 
the common consent of all three. 

* " Creasy's Text Book of the Constitution," p. 4. ^ 

t " Pictorial lilst. ol inglaiitl," vol. i., p. m. 



178 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

1421. Henry Y. gains several victories oyer the French, vrho 
refuse to acknowledge the treaty of Troyes. His son, afterward 
Henry VL, is born. 

1422. Henrj' V. and Charles YI. of France die. Henry YI. is 
proclaimed at Paris King of England and France. The followers 
of the French dauphin proclnim him Charles YH., king of France. 
The Duke of Bedford, the English regent in France, defeats the 
army of the dauphin at Crevant. 

1424. The Duke of Bedford gains the great victory of Verneuil 
over the French partisans of the dauphin and their Scotch aux- 
iliaries. 

1428. The English begin the siege of Orleans. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

JOAN OF AKC'S VICTOKT OVEE THE ENGLISH AT OKUEANS, A.D. 1429. 

The eyes of all Europe were turned toward this scene, where It was rea-. 
sonably supposed the French were to make their last stand for maintaining^ 
tlie independence of theii" monai'chy and the rights of their sovereign.— 
Hume. 

TVhex, after their victory at Salamis, the generals of the various 
Greek states voted the prizes for distinguished individual merit, 
each assigned the first place of excellence to himself, but they all 
concurred in giving their second votes to Themistocles,* This was 
looked'on as a decisive proof that Themistocles ought to be ranked 
first of all. If we were to endeavor, by a similar test, to ascertain 
which European nation had contributed the most to the progress 
of European civilization, we should find Italy, Germany, England, 
and Spain each claiming the first degree, but each also naming 
France as clearly nest in merit. It is impossible to deny her par- 
amount importance in history. Besides the formidable part that 
she has for nearly three centuries played, as the Bellona of the 
European commonwealth of states, her influence during all this 
period over the arts, the literature, the manners, and the feelings of 
mankind, has been such as to make the crisis of her earlier fortunes 
a point of world-wide interest ; and it may be asserted, without 
exaggeration, that the future career of every nation was involved 
in the result of the struggle by which the unconscious heroine of 
France, in the beginning of the fifteenth century, rescued her 
country from becoming a second Ireland under the yoke of the 
triumphant English. 

* Plutarch, Vit. Them., 17. 



JOAir OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 179 

Seldom lias the extinction of a nation's independence appeared 
more inevitable than was the case in France when the English 
invaderfi completed their lines round Orleans, four, hundred and 
twenty-two years ago. A series of dreadful defeats had thinned 
the chivalry of France, and daunted the sjoirits of her soldiers. A 
foreign king had been jproclaimed in her capital ; and foreign armies 
of the bravest veterans, and led by the ablest captains then knovni 
in the world, occupied the fairest portions of her territor3^ Worse 
to her, even, than the fierceness and the strength of her foes, were 
the factions, the vices and the crimes of her own children. Heif 
native prince was a dissolute trifler, stained with assassination of 
the most powerful noble of the land,' whose son, in revenge, had 
leagued himself with the enemy. Many more of her nobility, 
many of her prelates, her magistrates, and rulers, had sworn fealty 
to the English king. The condition of the peasantry amid the 
general prevalence of anarchy and brigandage, which were added 
to the customary devastations of contending armies, was wretched 
beyond the power of language to describe. The sense of terror 
and wretchedness seemed to have extended itself even to the brute 
creation. 

"In sooth, the estate of France was then most miserable. There 
appeared nothing but a horrible face, confusion, poverty, desola- 
tion, solitarinesse, and feare. The lean and bare laborers in the 
country did terrific even theeves themselves, who had nothing left 
them to spoile but the carkasses of these poore miserable creatures, 
"vvandering up and down like ghostes drawne out of their graves. 
The least farmes and hamlets were fortified by these robbers, Eng- 
lish, Bourguegnons, and French, every one striving to do his 
worst : all men-of-war were well agreed to sjDoile the countryman . 
and merchant. JEven the cattell, accustomed to the laruwe hell, the&igne 
of the enemy's approach, would run home (/ themselves without any 
guide by this accustomed misery."* 

In the autumn of 1428, the English, who were already masters of 
all France north of the Loire, prepared their forces for the conquest 
of the southern provinces, which yet adhered to the cause of the 
dauphin. The city of Orleans, on the banks of that river, wis 
looked upon as the last stronghold of the French national party. 
If the English could once obtain possession of it their victorious 
progress through the residue of the kingdom seemed free from ar.y 
serious obstacle. Accordingly the Earl of Salisbury, one of the 
bravest and most experienced of the English generals, who had 
been trained under Henry V., marched to the attack of the all-im- 
portant city ; and, after reducing several places of inferior conse- 
quence in the neighborhood, appeared with his ariny before its 
walls on the 12th of October, 1428. 

The city of Orleans itself was on the north side of the Loire, hut 

* De Series, quoted In the Notes to Soutliey's " Joan of Arc.*^ 



180 DECISIVE I^ATTZrS. 

its suburbs extended fur on the southern side, and a strong bridge 
connected them with tlie town. A lortiticntion, which in modern 
military phrase wouki be termed a tete-du-pont, defended the 
bridge head on the southern side, and two towers, called the 
Tourelles, were built on the bridge itself, at a little distance from 
the tete-du-pont. Indeed, the solid masonry of the bridge termin- 
ated at the Tourelles; and the communication thence withthetete- 
du-pont and the southern shore was by means of a draw-bridge. 
The Tourelles and the tete-du-pont formed together a strong forti- 
fied post, capable of containing a garrison of considerable strength; ' 
and so long as this w'as in possession of the Orleannais, they could 
communicate freely with the southern provinces, the inhabitants 
of which, like the Orleannais themselves, supported the cause of 
their dauphin against the foreigners. Lord Salisbury rightly judged 
the capture of the Tourelles to be the most material step toward 
the reduction of the city itself. Accordingly, he directed his 
principal operations against this post, and after some severe 
repulses, he carried the Tourelles by storm on the 23d of October. 
The French, however, broke down the arches of the bridge that 
•were nearest to the north bank, and thus rendered a direct assault 
from the Tourelles upon the city impossible. But the i:)ossession 
of this post enabled the English to distress the town greatly by a 
battery of cannon which they planted there, and which commanded 
some of the principal streets. 

It has been observed by Hume that this is the first siege in which 
any important use appears to have been made of artillery. And 
even at Orleans both besiegers and besieged seem to have employed 
their cannons merely as instruments of destruction against their 
enemy's in en, and not to have trusted them as engines of demoli- 
tion against their enemy's walls and works. The efficacy ot cannon 
in breaching solid masonry was taught Europe by the Tiirks.a few 
years afterward, in the memorable siege of Constantinople.* In 
our French wars, as in the wars of the classic nations, famine was 
looked on as the surest weapon to compel the submission of a well- 
walled town ; and the great object of the besiegers was to eflect a 
complete circumvallation. The great ambit of the walls of < rleans, 
and the facilities which the river gave for obtaining success and 
supplies, rendered the capture of the town by this process a matter 
of great difficulty. Nevertheless, Lord Salisbury, and Lord Suffolk, 
who succeeded him in command of the English after his death by a 
cannon ball, carried on the necessary w'ork with great skill and 
resolution. Six strongly-fortified posts, called bastilles, were 
formed at certain intervals roiind the town, and the purpose of the 
English engineers was to draw strong lines between them. During 
the winter little progress was made with the entrenchments, but 

* The occasional employment of artillery against sllgM defenses, as at 
Jaxgeau l]i 1429, is no real exception. 



JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 181 

whentlie spring of 1429 came, the English resumed their work with 
activity ; the communications between the city and the country 
became more difficult, and the approach of want began already to 
be felt in Orleans. 

The besieging force also fared hardly for stores and provisions, 
until relieved by the effects of a brilliant victory which Sir John 
Fastolfe, one of the best English generals, gained at Kouvrai, near 
Orleans, a few days after Ash Wednesday, 1429, With only six- 
teen hundred fighting men, Sir John completely defeated an army 
of French and Scots, four thousand strong, which had been col- 
lected for the purpose of aiding the Orleannais and harassing the 
besiegers. After this encounter, which seemed decisively to con- 
firm the superiority of the English in battle over their adversaries, 
Fastolfe escorted large supplies of stores and food to Suffolk's camp 
and the spirits of the English rose to the highest pitch at the pros- 
pect of the speedy capture of the city before them, and the conse- 
quent subjection of all France beneath their arms. 

The Orleannais now, in their distress, offered to surrender the 
city into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy, who, though the ally 
of the English, was yet one of their native princes. The Regent 
Bedford refused these terms, and the speedy submission of the 
city to the English seemed inevitable. The Dauphin Charles, 
who was now at Chinon with his remnant of a court despaired of 
continuing any longer the struggle for his crown, and was only 
prevented from abandoning the country by the more masculine 
spirits of his mistress and his queen. Yet neither they nor the 
boldest of Charles's captains, could have shown him where to find 
resources for prolonging the war ; and least of all could any 
human skill have predicted the quarter whence rescue was to come 
to Orleans and to France. 

In the village of Domremy, on the borders of Lorraine, there 
was a poor peasant of the name of Jacques d'Arc, respected in his 
station of life, and who had reared a family in virtuous habits and 
in the practice of the strictest devotion. His eldest daughter was 
named by her parents Jeannette, but she was called Jeanne by the 
French, which was Latinized into Johanna, and Anglicized into 
Joan, * 

At the time when Joan first attracted attention, she was about 
eighteen years of age. She was naturally of a susceptible disposi- 
tion, .which diligent attention to the legends of saints and tales of 
fairies, aided by the dreamy loneliness of her life while tending 
her father's flocks, f had made peculiarly prone to enthusiastic fer- 

* " Respondit quod in partibus sui3 vocabatur Johanneta, et postquam 
venlt in Franciam vocata est Jolianna."— Proces de Jeanne d' Arc, L, p. 46 

t Soutliey, in one of tlie speeches wtiic'ti lie puts in tlie moutli of Joan of 
Arc, has made her beautifully describe the effect on her mind of the scenei7 
In which she dwelt. 

" Here in solitude and peace 



18S DECISIVE BATTIESI. 

Tor. At the* same timo slie was eminent for piety and "Diii-ity of 
roul, and for her compassionate gentleness to the sick ani\ the dis- 
tressed. 

The district -^-hero she dwelt had escaped comparmt-ively free 
from the ravages of war. but the ap]>roach of roving bands of Unr- 
gundian or English troops treqnontly spread terror through Dom- 
remy. Once the village had been i^hindered by some of these 
marauders, and Jotxn and her family had been driven from their 
home, and forced to seek refuge for a time at Neufchateau. The 
peasantry in Domremy were principally attached to the house of 
Orleans and the dauphin, and all the miseries which France en- 
dured Mere there imputed to the Burgundian faction and their 
allies, the English, who were seeking to enslave unhappy France. 

Thus, from infancy to girlhood, Joan had heard continually of 
the woes of the war, and had herself witnessed some of the 
wretchedness that it caused. A feeling of intense patriotism 
grew in her with her growth. The deliverance of France fnnn the 
English was the subject of her reveries by day and her dreams 
by night. Blended with these aspirations were recollections of 
the miraculous interpositions of Heaven in favor of the oppressed, 
which she liad learned from the legends oi her church. Her faith 
was undoubting ; her prayers were fervent. "She feared no dan- 
ger, for she felt no sin," and at length she believed herself to 
have received the supernatural inspiration which she sought. ^ 

According to herowun:irrative. delivered by her to her merciless 
inquisitors in the time of her captivity and approaching death, she 
was about thirteen years old when her revelations commenced. 
Her own words describe them best.* "At the age of thirteen, a 
voice from God came to her to help her in ruling herself, and that 



My soul was nursed, amid the loveliest scenes 

Of unpolluted nature. Sweet It was, 

As the white mists ot moniiug roird away. 

To seethe mouutaiu's wooded heights appear 

Parkin the early dawn, and mark Its slope 

With g:orse-tlowers irlowiuir. as the rising sim 

On the groldeu ripeness poiir'd a deepening light, 

Pleasiitit at noon Ix^side the vocal hrook 

To lay me down, and watch the iloatjng clouds, 

And shape to Fani'ys wUd simihtudos 

Their ever var.ving forms; and oh ! how sweet, 

To drive my dock at evening to the fold, 

And hasten to our little hut. and liear 

The voice of idndness bid me welcome home." 

The only foundation lor the story told t>y the Burgundlan partisan, Moiv 
Htrelet, and adopted by Hume, of ,ioau having been b'-onght up as a servant, 
J3 the •jlrcmustancc of her having been once. Avith the rest of her family 
obiiired to take refuixe in an aubt-r^w in X"utohat«;'au »'or i^ftec.u days, when a 
party of liurgundian cavalry made an ineui"sion iiitc i)omremy, (See the 



JOAJf OF ARC'S VIOTORT AT ORLEANS. 183 

voice came to bor about tbe bour of noon, in Bummer time, wbile 
Bbe was in ber father'n garden. And sbe bad fasted the day before. 
And sbe beard the voice on ber right, in tbe direction of the 
church ; and when she heard the voice, she saw also a bright 
light." Afterward St. Michael, and St. Margaret, and St. Catha- 
rine appeared to her. They wore always in a halo of glory ; 
she could see that their beads were crowned with jewels ; 
and she heard their voices, which were sweet and mild. Sbe 
did not distinguish their arms or limbs. She beard them 
more frequently than sbe saw them ; and the usual time 
when she heard them was when the church bells were sounding 
for prayer. And if she was in the woods when she beard them, 
she could plainly distinguish their voices drawing near to ber, 
"When sbe thought that she discerned the Heavenly Voices, she 
knelt down, and bowed herself to the ground. 'Iheir presence 
gladdened her even to tc^ars ; and after they departed, sbe wept be- 
cause they bad not taken her back to Paradise. They always 
spoke soothingly to her. They told her that France would be 
saved, and that she was to save it. Such were the visions and tbe 
voices that moved the spirit of the girl of thirteen ; and as she 
grew older, they became more frequent and more clear. At last 
tbe tidings of tbe siege of Orleans reached Domremy. Joan heard 
ber parents and neighbors talk of the sufferings of its population, 
of the ruin which its capture would bring on their lawful sovereign, 
a»d of tbe distress of the dauphin and bis court, Joan's heart 
was sorely troubled at the thought of the fate of Orleans ; and her 
Voices now ordered her to leave ber home ; and warned her that 
she was tbe instrument chosen by Heaven for driving away the 
English from that city, and for taking the dauphin to be anointed 
king of tbe Rheims. At length she informed ber parents of her 
divine mission, and told them that she must go to the Sire de 
Baudricourt, who commanded at Vaucouleurs, and who was the 
appointed person to bring ber into the presence of the king, 
whom she was to save. Neither tbe anger nor the grief of ber 
parents, who said they would rather see ber drowned than exposed 
to the contamination of the camp, could move her from ber pur- 
pose. One of her uncles consented to take ber to Vaucouleurs, 
where De Baudricourt at first thought ber mad, and derided ber , 
but by degrees be was led to believe, if not in her inspiration, at 
least in her enthusiasm, and in its possible utility to tbe daupbinSs 
cause. 

The inhabitants of Vauconleurs were completely won over to her 
side by the piety and devoutness which she displayed, and by her 
firm assurance in the truth of her mission. She told them that 
it was God's will that she should go to the king, and that no one 
but her could save the kingdom of France. She said that she her- 
self would rather remain with her poor mother, and spin ; but the 
Lord had ordered her ibrtk, The fame of " The Ma^" m slid 'was 



184 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

termed, the renown of her holiness, and of her mission, spread far 
and wide. Baudricourt sent her with an escort to Chinon, where 
the Dauphin Charles was dallying away his time. Her Voices had 
bidden her assume the arms and the apparel of a knight ; and the 
wealthiest inhabitant of Vaueouleiirs had vied with each other in 
equipping her with war-horse, armor, and sword. On reaching 
Chinon, she was, after some delay, admitted into the presence of 
the dauphin. Charles designedly dressed himself far less richly 
than many of his courtiers were appareled, and mingled with 
them, when Joan was introduced in order to see if the Holy Maid 
would address her exhortations to the wrong person. But she in- 
stantly singled him out, and kneeling before him, said, "Most 
noble dauphin, the King of Heaven announces to you by me that 
you shall be anointed and crowned king in the city of Eheims, 
and that you shall be his viceregent in France." His features may 
probably have been seen by her previously in portraits, or have 
been described to her by others ; but she herself believed that her 
Toices inspired her when she addressed the king ;* and the report 
soon spread abroad that the Holy Maid had found the king by a 
miracle ; and this, with many other similar nimors, augmented 
the renown and influence that she now rapitlly acquired. 

The state of public feeling in Franco was now favorable to an 
enthusiastic belief in a divine interposition in favor of the party 
that had hitherto been unsuccessful and oppressed. The humil- 
iations wliich had befallen the French royal family and nobility 
were looked on as the jast judgments of God upon them for their 
vice and impietj". The misfortunes that had come upon France 
as a nation were believed to have been drawn down by national 
sins. The English, who had been the instruments of Heaven's 
wrath against France, seemed now, by their pride and cruelty, to 
be litting objects of it themselves. France in that age was a pro- 
foundly religious country. There was ignorance, there was su- 
perstition, there was bigotry; but there was Faith — a faith that 
itself worked true miracles, even while it believed in unreal ones. 
At this time, also one of those devotional movements began among 
the clergy in France, which from time to time occur in national 
churches, without it being possible for the historian to assign any 
aeiequate human cause for their immediate date or extension. 
Numberless friars and priests traversed the rural districts and 
towns of France, preaching to the people that they must seek from 
Heaven a deliverance from the pillages of the soldiery and the in- 
solence of the foreign oppressors, f The idea of a Providence 
that works only by general laws was wholly alien to the feelings 
of the age. Every political event as well as every natural pheno- 
menon, was believed to be the immediate result of a special man- 

* " Proces de Jeanne d'Arc." vol. i, p. 56. 

t See siiamondl, voL xiii,, p. lu ; Midielet, vol. v., livre, 2. 



JOAN OF AliC'8 VICTOnr AT ORLEANS. 185 

date of God. This led to the belief that his holy angels and 
saints were constantly employed in executing his commands and 
mingling in the affairs of men. The Church encouraged these 
feelings, and at the same time sanctioned the concurrent popular 
belief that hosts of evil spirits were also ever actively interposing 
in the current of earthly events, with whom sorcerers and wizards 
could league themselves, and thereby obtain the exercise of super- 
natural power. 

Thus all things favored the influence which Joan obtained both 
over friends and foes. The French nation as well as the English 
and the Burgundians, readily admitted that superhuman beings 
inspired her; the only question was whether these beings were 
good or evil angels; whether she brought with her " rirs from 
heaven or blasts from hell." This question seemed to her coun- 
trymen to be decisively settled in her favor by the austere sanctity 
of her life, by the holiness of her conversation, but still more by 
her exemplary attention to all the services and rites of the Church. 
The dauphin at first feared the injury that might be done to his 
cause if he laid himself open to the charge of having leagued him- 
self with a sorceress. Every imaginable test therefore, was resorted 
to in order to set Joan's orthodoxy and purity beyond suspicion. 
At last Charles and his advisers felt safe in accepting her services as 
those of a true and virtuous Christian daughter of the Holy Church. 

It is indeed probable that Charles himself and some of his coun- 
selors may have suspected Joan of being a mere enthusiast, and 
it is certain that Dunois, and others of the best generals, took 
considerable latitude in obeying or deviating from the military 
orders that she gave. But over the mass of the people and the 
soldiery her influence was unbounded. While Charles and his 
doctors of theology, and court ladies, had been deliberating as to 
recognizing or dismissing the Maid, a considerable period had 
passed away, during which a small army, the last gleamings, as it 
seemed, of the English sword, had been assembled at Blois, un- 
der Dunois, La Hire, Xaintrailles, and other chiefs, who to their 
natural valor were now beginning to unite the wisdom that is 
taught by misfortune. It was resolved to send Joan with this 
force and a convoy of provisions to Orleans. The distress of that 
city had now become urgent. But the communication with the 
open country was not entirely cut off" : the Orleannais had heard 
of the Holy Maid whom Providence had raised up for their deliv- 
erance, and their messengers earnestly implored the dauphin to 
send her to them without delay. 

Joan appeared at the camp at Blois, clad in a new suit of bril- 
liant white armor, mounted on a stately black war-horse, and with 
a lance in her right hand, which she had learned to wield with 
skill and grace.* Her head was unhelmeted; so that all could 

* See the description o£ her toy Gui de Laval, quoted in the note to Mlche- 



186 DECISIVE Battles. 

behold her fair and expressive features, lier deep-set and earnest 
eyes, and her long black hair, which was parted across her lore- 
head, and bound by a ribbon behind her back. She wore at her 
side a small battle-axe, and the consecrated sword marked on the 
blade with five crosses, which had at her bidding been taken for 
her from the shrine of St. Catharine at Fierbois. A page carried 
• her banner, which she had caused to be made and embroidered as 
her Voices enjoined. It was white satin,* strewn with fleurs-de-lis; 
and on it were the words, "Jhesls Makia," and the representa- 
tion of the Saviour in his glory. Joan afterward generally bore 
her banner herself in battle; she said that though she loved her 
tword much, she loved her banner forty times as much; and she 
loved to carry it, because it could not kill any one. 

Thus accoutered, she came to lead the troops of France, who 
looked with soldierly admiration on her well-proportioned and 
upright figure, the skill with which she managed her war-horse, 
and the easy grace with which she handled her weapons. Her 
military education had been short, but she had availed herself 
of it well. She had also the good sense to interfere little with 
the maneuvers of the troops, leaving these things to Dunois, and 
others whom she had the discernment to recognize as the best 
officers in the camp. Her tactics in action were simple enough. 
As she herself described it, "I used to say to them, 'Go boldly 
in among the English,' and then I used to go boldly in myself."t 
Such, as she told her inquisitors, was the only spell she used, and 
it was one of j)Ower. But while interfering little with the mili- 
tary discipline of the troops, in all matters of moral discipline she 
was inflexibly strict. All the abandoned followers of the camp 
were driven away. She compelled both generals and soldiers to 
attend regularly at confessional. Her chaplain and other priests 
marched with the army under her orders; and at every halt, an 
altar was set up and the sacrament adrainistered. No oath or 
foul language passed without punishment or censure. Even the 
roughest and most hardened veterans obeyed her. They put off 
for a time the bestial coarseness which had grown on them dur- 
ing a life of bloodshed and rapine; they felt that they must go 
forth in a new spirit to a new career, and acknowledged the 
beauty of the holiness in which the heaven-sent Maid was leading 
them to certain victory. 

Joan marched from Blois on the 25th of April with a convoy of 
provisions for Orleans, accompanied by Dunois, La Hire, and the 
other chief captains of the French, and on the evening of the 28th 
they approached the town. In the words of the old chronicler 



let, p. 69 ; and see the account of tlie banner at Orleans, wMch is believed 
to bear an authentic portrait of the Maid, in Murrays " Hand-book Ur 
France," p. 175. 
* " Proc«s de Jeanne d'Arc,' toI, i.. p. 238, t I(i< US*. 



JOAN OF auc's vtcTonr at ohljuaks. w 

Hall:* "The Englishmen, perceiving that thei within could not 
long continue for faute of vitaile and pouder, kepte not their 
■watche so diligently as thei were accustomed, nor scoured now 
the countrey environed as thei before had ordained. Whiche neg- 
ligence the citizens shut in perceiving, sent worde thereof to the 
Prench captaines, which, with Pucelle, in the dedde tyme of the 
nighte, and in a greate rayne and thundere, with all their vitaile 
and artillery, entered into the citie." 

When it was day, the Maid rode in solemn procession through 
the city, clad in complete armor, and mounted on a white horse. 
Dunois was by her side, and all the bravest knights of her army 
and of the garrison followed in her train. The whole population 
tlirongel around her; and men, women, and children strove to 
toucli her garments, or her banner, or her charger. They poured 
forth blessings on her, whom they already considered their deliv- 
erer. In the words used by two of them afterward before the 
tribunal which reversed the sentence, but could not restore the 
life of the Virgin-martyr of France, "the people of Orleans, when 
they first saw her in their city, thought that it was an angel from 
heaven that had come down to save them." Joan spoke gently in 
reply to their acclamations and addresses. She told them to fear 
God, and trust in him for safety from the fury of their enemies. 
She first went to the principal church, where Te Deum was chanted; 
and then she took up her abode at tl:c house of Jacques Bourgier, 
one of the principal citizens, and whose wife was a matron of good 
repute. She refused to attend a splendid banquet which had been 
provided for her, and passed nearly all her time in prayer. 

When it was known by the English that the Maid was in Orleans, 
their minds were not less occupied about her than were the minds 
of those in the city ; but it was in a very different spirit. The 
English believed in her supernatural mission as firmly as the 
French did, but they thought her a sorceress who had come to 
overthrow them by her enchantments. An old prophecy, which 
told that a damsel from Lorraine was to save France, had long been 
current, and it was known and applied to Joan by foreigners as 
well as by the natives. For months the English had heard of the 
coming Maid, and the tales of miracles which she was said to have 
wrought have been listened to by the rough yeomen of the English 
camp with anxious curiosity and secret awe. She had sent a her- 
ald to the English generals before she marched for Orleans, and 
he had summoned the English generals in the name of the Most 
High to give up to the Maid, who was sent by Heaven, the keys of 
the French cities which they had wrongfully taken ; and he also 
solemnly adjured the English troops, whether archers, or men ot 
the companies of war, or gentlemen, or others, who were before 
the city of Orleans, to depart thence to their homes, under peril 

* HaU,X.12T. _. 



188 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

of being visited by the judgment of God. On ber arrival in Or- 
leans, Joan sent another similar message ; but the English scoffed 
at her from their towers, and threatened to burn her heralds. 
She determined, before she shed the blood of the besiegers, to re- 
peat the warning with her own voice ; and accordingly, she 
mounted one of the boulevards of the town, which was within 
hearing of the Tourelles, and thence she spoke to the English, 
and bade them depart otherwise they would meet with shame and 
woe. Sir William Gladsdale (whom the French call Glacidas) 
Icommanded the English post at the Tourelles, and he and another 
English of&cer replied by bidding her go home and keep her cows, 
and by ribald jests, that brought tears of shame and indignation 
into her eyes. But, though the English leaders vaunted aloud, 
the effect produced on their army by Joan's presence in Orleans 
was proved four days after her arrival, when, on the approach of 
re-enforcements and stores to the town, Joan and La Hire marched 
out to meet them, and escorted the long train of provision wagons 
safely into Orleans, between the bastilles of the English, who 
cowered behind their walls instead of charging fiercely and fear- 
lessly, as had been their wont, on any French band that dared to 
show itself within reach. 

Thus far she had prevailed without striking a blow ; but the 
time was now come to test her courage amid the horrors of actual 
slaughter. On the afternoon of the day on which she had escorted 
the re-enforcements into the city, while she was resting fatigued 
at home, Dunois had seized an advantageous opportunity of at- 
tacking the English bastille of St. Loup, and a fierce assault of 
the Orleannais had been made on it, which the English garrison 
of the fort stubbornly resisted. Joan was roused by a sound which 
she believed to be that of her Heavenly Voices ; she called for her 
arms and horse, and, quickly equipping herself, she mounted to 
ride off to where the fight was raging. In her haste she had for- 
gotten her banner ; she rode back, and, without dismounting, had 
it given to her from the window, and then she galloped to the gate 
whence the sally had been made. On her way she met some of 
the wounded French who had been carried back from the fight. 
Ah ! " she exclaimed, " I never can see French blood flow without 
my hair standing on end." She rode out of the gate, and met the 
tide of her countrymen, who had been repulsed from the English 
fort, and were flying back to Orleans in confusion. At the sight 
of the Holy Maid and her banner they rallied, and renewed the 
assault. Joan rode forward at their head, waving her banner and 
cheering them on. The English quailed at what they believed to. 
be the charge of hell ; Saint Loup was stormed, and its defenders 
put to the sword, except some few, whom Joan succeeded in sav- 
ing. AD her woman's gentleness returned when the combat was 
over. It W9-S the first time that she had ever seen a battle-field. 
She wept at the sight of so many bleeding corpses ; and her tears 



JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 189 

flowed doubly when she reflected that they were the bodies of 
Christian men who had died without confession. _ , ^ 

The next day was Ascension day, and it was passed by Joan m 
prayer But on the following morrow it was resolved by the chieis 
of the garrison to attack the English forts on the south of the 
river For this purpose they crossed the river m boats, and alter 
some severe fighting, in which the Maid was wounded m the heel, 
both the English bastilles of the Augustins and St. Jean de Blanc 
were captured. The Tourelles were now the only post which the 
besiegers held on the south of the river. But that post was for- 
midably strong, and by its command of the bridge, it was the key 
to the deliverance of Orleans. It was known that a fresh English 
army was approaching under Fastolfe to re-enforce the besiegers, 
and should that army arrive while the Tourelles were yet in the 
possession of their comrades, there was great peril of all the advan- 
tages which the French had gained being nullified, and o± the 
siege being again actively carried on. ., ^^ m n 

It was resolved, therefore, by the French to assail the Tourelles 
at once, while the enthusiasm which the presence and the heroic 
valor of the Maid had created was at its height. But the enterprise 
was difficult. The rampart of the tete-du-pont, or landward bul- 
wark, of the Tourelles was steep and high, and Sir John Gladsdale 
occupied this all-important fort with five hundred archers and 
men-at-arms, who were the very flower of the English army. 

Early in the morning of the seventh of May, some thousands 
of the best French troops in Orleans heard mass and attended the 
confessional by Joan's orders, and then crossing the river in boats, 
as on the preceding day, they assailed the bulwark of the Tou- 
relles ' with light hearts and heavy hands." But Gladsdale s 
men, encouraged by their bold and skilful leader, made a resolute 
and able defense. The Maid planted her banner on the edge of the 
fosse, and then springing down into the ditch, she placed the first 
ladder afifainst the wall and began to mount. An English archer 
sent an arrow at her, which pierced her corslet, and wounded her 
severely between the neck and shoulder'. She fell bleeding from 
the ladder ; and the English were leaping down from the wall to 
capture her, but her followers bore her off. She was carried to 
the rear, and laid upon the grass; her armor was taken off, and 
the anguish of her wound and the sight of her blood made her at 
first tremble and weep. But her confidence in her celestial mission 
soon returned : her patron saints seemed to stand before her, and re- 
assure her. She sat up and drew the arrow out with her own hands. 
Some of the soldiers who stood by wished to staunch the blood by 
saying a charm over the wound ; but she forbade them, saying 
that she did not wish to be cured by unhallowed means. She had 
the wound dressed with a little oil, and then bidding her confessor 
come to her, she betook herself to prayer. 
In the mean while, the English in the bulwark of the Tourelles 



190 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

had repulsed the oft-renewed efforts of the French to scale the 
■wall. Dunois, who commanded the assailants, was at last dis- 
couraged, and gave orders for a retreat to be sounded. Joan sent 
for him and the other generals, and implored them not to despair. 
"By my God," she said to them, " j^ou shall soon enter in there. 
Do not doubt it. When you see my banner wave again up to the 
wall, to your arms again ! fi)r the fort is yours. For the present, 
rest a little, and take some food and drink." " They did so," says 
the old chronicler of the siege, * " for they obeyed her marvelously," 
The famtness caused by her wound had now passed off, and she 
headed the French in another rush against the bulwark. The 
English, who had thought her slain, were alarmed at her reap- 
pearance, while the Fr -nch pressed furiously and fanatically for- 
ward. A Biscay an soldier was carrying Joan's banner. She had 
told the troops that directly the banner touched the wall, they 
should enter. The Biscayan waved the banner forward from the 
edge of the fosse, and touched the wall with it ; and then all the 
French host swarmed madly up the ladders that now were raised 
in all directions against the English fort. At this crisis, the efforts 
of the English garrison were distracted by an attack from another 
quarter. The French troops who had been left in Orleans had 
placed some planks over the broken arch of the bridge, and advanced 
across them to the assault of the Tourelles on the northern side. 
Gladsdale resolved to withdraw his men from the landward bul- 
wark, and concentrate his whole force in the Tourelles themselves. 
He was passing for this purpose across the draw-bridge that c>n- 
nected the Tourelles and the tete-du-pont, when Joan, who by this 
time had scaled the wall of the bulwark, called out to him, "Sur- 
render! surrender to the King of Hearen ! Ah, Glacidas, you 
have foully wronged me with your words, but I have great pity on 
your soul, and the souls of your men." The Englishman, disdain- 
ful of her summons, was striding on across the draw-bridge, when 
a cannon shot from the town carried it away, and Gladsdale per- 
ished in the water that ran beneath. After his fall, the remnant 
of the English abandoned all farther resistance. Three hundred 
of them had been killed m the battle, and two hundred were made 
prisoners. 

The broken arch was speedily repaired by the exulting Orlean- 
nais, and Joan made her triumphal re-entry into the city by the 
bridge that had so long been closed. Every church in Orleans 
rang out its gratulating peal ; and throughout the night the sounds 
of rejoicing echoed, and bonfires blazed up from the city. But in 
the lines and forts which tha besiegers yet retained on the north- 
ern shore, there was anxious watching of the generals, and there 
was desponding gloom among the soldiery. Even Talbot now 
counseled retreat. On the following morning the Orleannais, 

* "Journal du Siege d'Orleans," p. 8T. 



JOAN OF ARC'S VICTOET AT ORLEANS. 191 

from their walls, saw the great forts called " London" and "St. 
Lawrence " in flames, and witnessed their invaders busy in destroy- 
ing the stores and munitions which had been relied on for the 
destruction of Orleans. Slowly and sullenly the English army 
retired ; and not before it had drawn up in battle array opposite 
to the city, as if to challenge the garrison to an encounter. The 
French troops we eager to go out and attack, but Joan forbade it. 
The day was Sunday, " Li the name of God," she said, "let them 
depart, and let its return thanks to God." She led the soldiers 
and citizens forth from Orleans, but not fo:" the shedding of blood. 
They passed in solemn procession round the city walls, and then, 
while their retiring enemies were yet in sight, they knelt in 
thanksgiving to God for the deliverance which he had vouchsafed 
them. 

Within three months from the time of her first interview with 
the dauphin, Joan had fulfilled the first part of her promise, the 
raising of the siege of Orleans. "Within three months more she 
had fulfilled the second part also, and had stood with her banner 
in her hand by the high altar at Eheims, while he was anointed 
and crowned as King Charles VII. of France. In the interval she 
had taken Jargeau, Troyes, and other strong places, and she had 
defeated an English army in a fair field atPatay. The enthusiasm 
of her countrymen knew no bounds ; but the importance of her 
services, and especially of her primary achievement at Orleans, 
may perhaps be best proved by the testimony of her enemies. There 
is extant a fragment of a letter from the Eegent Bedford to his royal 
nephew, Henry VI., in which he bewails the turn that the war has 
taken, and especially attributes it to the raising of the siege of 
Orleans by Joan. Bedford's own words, which are preserved in 
Bymer, * are as follows : 

"And alle thing there prospered for you til the tyme of the Siege 
of Orleans taken in hand God knoweth by what advis. 

"At tiie whiche tyme, after the adventure fallen to the persone 
of my cousin of Salisbury, whom God assoille, there felle by the 
hand of God as it seemeth, a great strook upon your peuple that 
was assembled there in grete nombre, caused in grete partie, as y 
trowe, of lakke of sadde beleve, and of unlevefulle doubte, that 
thei hadde of a disciple and lymeof theFeende, called the Pucelle, 
that used fals enchantments and sorcerie. 

"The whiche strookeand discomfiture noW; oonly lessedin grete 
partie the nombre of your peuple there, but as well withdrewe the 
courage of the remenant in merveillous wyse, and couraiged your 
adverse partie and ennemys to assemble them forthwith in grete 
nombre." 

When Charles had been anointed King of France, Joan believed 
that her mission was accomplished. And, in truth, the deliverance 

Vol. X., p, 408. 



192 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

of France from the English, though not completed for many years 
afterward, was then insured. The ceremony of a royal coronation 
and anointnunt was not in those da\s regarded as a mere costly 
formality. It was believed to confer the sanction and the grace of 
Heavfn uj^on the prince, who had previously ruled with mere 
human authority. Thenceforth he was the Lord's Anointed. 
Moreover, one of the difficulties that had previously lain in the 
way of many Frenchmen when called on to support Charles VII. was 
now removed. He had been publicly stigmatized, even by his own 
parents, as no true son of the royal race of France. The queen- 
mother, the English, and the partisans of Burgundy called him the 
"Pretender to the title of Dauphin ; '' but those w'ho had been led 
to doubt his legitimacy were cured of their skepticism by the vic- 
tories of the Holy Maid and by the fiilfillment of her pledges. They 
thought that Heaven had now declared itself in favor of Charles as 
the true heir of the crown of St. Louis, and the tales about his 
being spurious w^ere thenceforth regarded as mere English calum- 
nies. AVith this strong tide of national feeling in his favor, with 
victorious generals and soldiers round him, and a dispirited and 
divided enemy before him, he could not fail to conquer, though 
hi^ own imprudence and misconduct, and the stiibborn valor 
which the English still from time to time displayed, prolonged the 
war in France until the civil war of the Koses broke out in England, 
and left France to peace and repose. 

Joan knelt before the French king in tb.e cathedral of Eheims, 
and shed tears of joy. She said that she had then fulfilled the 
work which the Lord had commanded her. The j^oung girl now 
asked for her dismissal. She wished to return to her peasant 
home, to tend her parents' flocks again, and live at her own wall in 
her native village.* She had always believed that her career would 
be a short one . But Charles and his captains were loth to loose 
the presence of one who had such influence upon the soldiery and 
the people. They persuaded her to stay with the army. She still 
showed the same bravery and zeal for the cause of France. She 
still was as fervent as before in her prayers, and as exemplary in all 
religious duties. She still heard her Heavenly Voices, but she 
now no longer thought herself the appointed minister of Heaven 
to lead her countrj^men to certain victory. Our admiration for her 
courage and patriotism ought to be increased a hundred fold by 
her conduct throughout the latter part of her career, amid dangers, 
against which she no longer believed herself to be divinely secured. 
Indeed, she believed herself doomed to perish in a little more than 
a year ;t but she still fought on as resolutely, if not as exultingly 
as ever. 

* " Je voudrals Wen qu'il voulut me falre ramener aupres mes pere et 
mere, a garder leurs brebis et betail, et laire ce que Je voudrols falre." 

1 " Des le commencement elle avait dit, 'II me laut employer: Je ne 
dm^erai qu un an, ou guere plus.' "— Michblet, v., p, 101. 



JOAN OF AEC'8 VIOTOBY AT ORLEANS. 193 

As in the case of Arminius, the interest attached to individual 
heroism and virtue makes us trace the fate of Joan of Arc after 
she had saved her country. She served well with Charles's army 
in the capture of Laon, Soissons, Compiegne, Beauvais, and other 
strong places ; but in a premature attack on Paris, in September, 
1429, the French were repulsed, and Joan was severely wounded. 
In the winter she was again in the field with some of the French 
troops; and in the following spring she threw herself into the 
fortress of Compiegne, which she had herself won for the French 
king in the preceding autumn, and which was now besieged by a 
strong Burgundian force. 

She was taken prisoner in a sally from. Compiegne, on the 24th 
of May, and was imprisoned by the Burgundians first at Arras, 
and then at a place called Crotoy, on the Flemish coast, until 
November, when, for payment of a large sum of money, she was 
given up to the English, and taken to Bouen, which then was 
their main stronghold in France. 

" Sorrow it were, and shame to tell, 
TJie toutchery tnat there toefell." 

And the revolting details of the cruelties practiced upon this 
young girl may be left to those whose duty, as avowed biogra- 
phers, it is to describe them. * She was tried before an ecclesi- 
astical tribunal on the charge of witchcraft, and on the 30th of 
iVIay, 1431, she was burned alive in the market-place at Bouen. 

I will add but one remark on the character of the truest heroine 
that the world has ever seen. 

If any person can be found in the present age who would join 
in the scoffs of Voltaire against the Maid of Orleans and the 
Heavenly Voices by which she believed herself inspired, let him 
read the life of the wisest and best man that the heathen nations 
produced. Let him read of the Heavenly Voice by which Socra- 
tes believed himself to be constantly attended ; which cautioned 
him on his way from the field of battle at Delium, and which 
from his boyhood to the time of his death, visited him with un- 
earthly warnings. t Let the modern reader reflect upon this; 
and then, unless he is prepared to term Socrates either fool or 
impostor, let him not dare to deride or vilify Joan of Arc. 

* The whole of the " Proces de Condemnation et de Rehahilitation de 
Jeanne D'Arc" has been published In five volumes, by the Societe de L liis- 
toire de B'rance. All the passages from contemporary chroniclers and poets 
are added ; and the most ample materials are thus given for acquiring full 
information on a subject which is, to an Englishman, one of painful interest, 
'ihere is an admirable essay on Joan of Arc in the lasth number of the 
'•(Quarterly." 

T tsee Cicero, de Divinatlone, lib. i., sec, 41 ; and see the words of Socrates 
himself, in Plato, Apoi. &oo.; On fioi ^siov ri ual daijuoi^iov yiy- 
veraA. E/xol 6e rove kdriv en Ttaidii dozoc/j-svoVf ^Qoyr) iii 
yiyvoiiivriy n. r. X, 
D.B.— 7 



194 DECISIVE BATTLES. 



Synopsis of Events between Joan of Aec's Yictoet at Orleans, a. 

D. 1-129, AND THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANltiH AkMADA, A.D. 1588. 

A.D. 1452. Final expulsion of the English from France. 

1453. Constantinople taken, and the Eoman empire of the East 
destroyed by the Turkish Sultan Mohammed II. 

1455. Commencement of the civil wars in England between the 
houses of York and Lancaster. 

1479. Union of the Christian kingdoms of Spam under Ferdinand 
and Isabella, 

1492. Capture of Grenada by Ferdinand and Isabella, and the end 
of the Moorish dominion in Spain. 

1492. Columbus discovers the New World. 

1494. Charles YIII. of France invades Italy. 

1497. Expedition of Yasco di Gama to the East Indies round the 
Cape of Good Hope. 

1503. Naples conquered from the French by the great Spanish 
general, Gonsalvo of Cordova. 

1508. League of Cambray by the pope, the emperor, and the 
King of France against Yenice. 

1509. Albuquerque establishes the empire of the Portuguese in 
the East Indies. 

1516. Death of Ferdinand of Spain; he is succeeded by his grand- 
son Charles, afterwards the Emperor Charles Y. 

1517. Dispute between Luther and Tetzel respecting the sale of 
indulgences, which leads to the Eeformation. 

1519. Charles Yo is elected Emperor of Germany. 

1520. Cortez conquers Mexico. 

1525. Francis First of Spain defeated and taken prisoner by the 
imperial army atPavia. 

1520. League of Smalcald formed by the Protestant princes of 
Germany. 

1533. Henry "\nil. renounces the papal supremacy. 

1533. Pizarro conquers Peru. 

1556. Abdication of the Emperor Charles Y., Philip 11. becomes 
King of Spain, and Ferdinand I. Emperor of Germany. 

1557. Elizabeth becomes Queen of England. 

1557. The Spaniards defeat the French at the battle of St. Quen- 
tin. 

1571. Don John of Austria, at the heatl of the Spanish fleet, aid- 
ed by Yenetian and the papal squadrons, defeats the Turks at Le- 
panto. 

1572, Massacre of the Protestants in France on St, Bartholomew's 
day. 

1579. The Netherlands revolt against Spain. 

1580. Philip II. conquei*s Portugal. 



DEFEAT OF TEE SF ANISE ABM AD A. 195 

CHAPTEB X. 

THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ABMADA A.D. 1588. 

fn tRat memorable year, when the dark cloud gathered round our coasts, 
len Europe stood by in tearful suspense to behold what should be the 
i~"Hult of that great cast In the game of human pontics, what the craft of 
Rome, the power of Philip, the genius of Farnese could achieve against the 
iBland-queen, with her Drakes and cecils— in that agony of the Protestant 
faith and English name.— hallam, Cotiiit. llid. vol. l., p. ii'^u. 

On the afternoon of the 19th of July, a.d. 1C8S, a group of Eng- 
lish captains was collected at the Bowling Green on the Hoe at 
Plymouth, whose equals have never before or since been brought 
together, even at that favorite mustering place of the heroes of the 
British navy. There was Sir Francis Drake the first English cir- 
cumnavigator of the globe, the terror of every Spanish coast in 
the Old World and the New; there was Sir John Hawkins, the 
rough veteran of many a daring voyage on the African and Amer- 
ican seas, and of many a desperate battle ; there was Sir Martin 
Frobisher, one of the earliest explorers of the Artie seas, in search. 
of that Northwest Passage which is still the darling object of Eng- 
land's boldest mariners. There was the high Admiral of England, 
Lord Howard of Effingham, prodigal of all things in his country's 
cause, and who had recently had the noble daring to refuse to dis- 
mantle part of the fleet, though the queen had sent him orders to 
do so, in consequence of an exaggerated report that the enemy 
had been driven back and shattered by a storm. Lord Howard 
(whom contemporary writers describe as being of a wise and 
noble courage, skilful in sea matters, wary and provident, and of 
great esteem among the sailors) resolved to risk his sovereign's 
anger, and to keep the ships afloat at his own charge, rather than 
that England should run the peril of losing their protection. 

Another of our Elizabethan sea-kings, Sir Walter Kaleigh, was 
at that time commissioned to raise and equip the land forces of 
Cornwall; but we may well believe that he must have availed him- 
self of the opportunity of consulting with the lord admiral and 
the other high officers, which was offered by the English fleet put- 
ting into Plymouth ; and we may look on Raleigh as one of the 
group that was assembled at the Bowling Green on the Hoe. 
Many other brave men and skilful mariners, besides the chiefs 
whose names have been mentioned, were there, enjoying with true 
sailor-like merriment, their temporary relaxation from duty. In 
the harbor lay the English fleet with which they had just re- 
turned from a cruise to Corunna in search of information respect- 
ing the real condition and movements of the hostile Armada. 
Lord Howard had ascertained that our enemies, though tempest- 
tossed, were btixl iormidably strong; and fearing that part of their 



196 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

fleet might make for England in his absence, he had hurried back 
to the Devonshire coast. He resumed his station at Plymouth, 
and waited there for certain tidings of the Spaniard's approach. 

A match at bowls was being played, in which Drake and other 
high officers of the fleet were engaged, when a small armed ves- 
sel was seen running before the wind into Plymouth harbor with 
all sails set. Her commander landed in haste and eagerly sought 
the place where the English lord admirals and his captains were 
standing. His name was Fleming; he was the master of a Scotch 
privateer; and he told the English officers that he had that morn- 
ing seen the Spanish Armada off the Cornish coast. At this 
exciting information the captains began to hurry down to the 
water, and there was a shouting for the shijDs' boats ; but Drake 
cooly checked his comrades, and insisted the match should be 
played out. He said that there was plenty of time both to win the 
game and beat the Spaniards. The best and bravest match that 
ever was scored was resumed accordingly'. Drake and his friends 
aimed their last bowls with the same steady, calculating coolness 
with which they Avere about to point their guns. The winning 
cast was made ; and then they went on board and prepared for 
action with their hearts as light and their nerves as firm as they 
had been on the Hoe Bowling Green. 

Meanwhile the messengers and signals had been dispatched fast 
and far through England, to warn each town and village that the 
enemy had come at last. In eveiy sea-port there was instant mak- 
ing ready by land and by sea ; in every shire and every city there 
was instant mustering of horse and man. * But England's best 
defense tlien, as ever, was in her fleet; and after warping laboriously 
out of Plymouth harbor against the wind, the lord admiral stood 
westward under easy sail, keeping an anxious look-out for the 
Armada, the approach of which was soon announced by Cornish 
fish-boats and signals from the Cornish cliffs . 

The England of our own days is so strong, and the Spain of our 
own days is so feeble, that it is not easy, without some reflection and 
care, to comprehend the full extent of the peril which England 
then ran from the power and the ambition of Spain, or to appre- 
ciate the importance of that crisis in the history of the world. 
We had then no Indian or colonial empire, save the feeble germs 
of our North American settlements, which Ealeigh and Gilbeii; 
had recently planted. Scotland was a separate kingdom ; and 
Ireland was then even a greater source of weakness and a worse 
nest of rebellion than she has been in after times. Queen 

* In Macaulaj^'s Ballad on the Spanlsli Armada, tlie transmission of tlie 
tidlii;4>i of tlie -Aimada s approacli. and the arming of the English nation, 
ix.a iu.:gnincer!tl.v cttscribed. 'i lie progress of the lire-signals is depicted in 
hai.'.-> vshi^ti a.e wo.thy of comoarison with the renowiicd passage in V^'^ 
^ga'n'^^^n'-^n \ hi-.i de,^cribes the tiansmission of the beacon-Uffht u^- 
hoaiicmg uiu i'ali of Troy from j^oont Ida to Argos. 



DEFEAT OF THE SPAKISIl ABMABA. 197 

Elizabeth had found at her accession an encumbered revenue, a 
divided people, and an unsuccessful foreign war, in which the last 
remnant of our possessions in France had been lost; she had also 
a formidable pretender to her crown, whose interests were favored 
by all the Eoman Catholic powers ; and even some of her subjects 
were warped by religious bigotry to deny her title, and to look on 
her as a heretical usurper. It is true that during the years of her 
reign which had passed away before the attempted invasion of 1588, 
she had revived the commercial prosperity, the national spirit, and 
tne national loyalty of England. But her resources to cope with 
the colossal power of Philip II. still seemed most scanty ; and she 
had not a single foreign ally, except the Dutch, who were themselves 
struggling hard, and, as it seemed, hopelessly, to maintain their 
revolt against Spain. 

On the other hand, Philip II. was absolute master of an empire 
so superior to the other states of the world in extent, in resources, 
and especially in military and naval forces as to make the isroject 
of enlarging that empire into a universal monarchy seem a per- 
fectly feasible scheme ; and Philip had both the ambition to form 
that project, and the resolution to devote all his energies and all 
his means to its realization. Since the downfall of the Eoman. 
empire no such preponderating power had existed in the world. 
During the mediaeval centuries the chief European kingdoms were 
slowly moulding themselves out of the feudal chaos ; and though 
the wars with each other v/ere numerous and desperate, and several 
of their respective kings figured for a time as mighty conquerors, 
none of them in those times acquired the consistency and perfect 
organization which are requisite for a long-sustained career of 
aggrandizement. After the consolidation of the great kingdoms, 
they for some time kept each other in mutual check. During the 
first half of the sixteenth century, the balancing system was sue 
cessfully practiced by European statesmen. But when Philip II , 
reigned, France had become so miserably weak through her civil 
wars, that he had nothing to dread from the rival state which had 
so long curbed his father, the Emperor Charles V. In Germany, 
Italy, and Poland he had either zealous friends and dependents, 
or weak and divided enemies. Against the Turks he had gained 
great and glorious successes ; and he might look round the conti- 
nent of Europe without discerning a single antagonist of whom he 
could stand in awe. Spain, when he acceded to the throne, was 
at the zenith of her power. The hardihood and spirit which the 
Aragonese, the Castilians, and the other nations of the peninsula 
had acquired during centuries of free institutions and successful 
war against the Moors, had not yet become obliterated. Charles 
V. had, indeed, destroyed the liberties of Spain ; but that had 
been done too recently for its full evil to be felt in Philip's time. 
A people cannot be debased in a single generation ; and the 
Spaniards under Cliarles V. and Philip 11. proved the truth of the 



198 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

remark, that nc nation is ever so formidable to its neighbors for a 
time, as a nation which, after being trained Tip in self-government, 
passes suddenly under a despotic ruler. The energy of domo- 
cratic institutions survives for a few gererations, and to it are 
nuperadded the decision and certainty which are the attributes of 
government when all its powers are directed by a single mind. It 
^ true that this preternatural vigor is short-lived : national corrup- 
Vion and debasement gradually follow the loss of the national 
liberties ; but there is an interval before their workings are felt, 
and in that interval the most ambitious schemes of foreign con- 
quest are often siiccessfully undertaken. 

Philip had also the advantage of finding himself at the head of a 
large standing army in a perfect state of discipline and equipment, 
in an age when, except some few insignificant corps, standing 
armies were unknown in Christendom. The renown of the Spanish 
troops was justly high, and the infantry in particular was consid- 
ered the best in the world. His fleet, also, was far more numerous, 
and better appointed than that of any other European power ; and 
both his soldiers and hit> sailors had the confidence in themselves 
and their commanders which a long career of successful warfare 
alone can create . 

Besides the Spanish crown, Philip succeeded to the kingdom of 
Naples and Sicily, the duchy of Milan, Franche-Compte, and the 
Netherlands. In Africa he possessed Tunis, Oran, the Cape Verde, 
and the Canary Islands ; and in Asia, the Plnlippine and Sunda 
Islands, and a part of the Moluccas. Beyond the Atlantic he was 
lord of the most splendid portions of the New World, which 
Columbus found "for Castile and Leon." The empires of Peru 
and Mexico, Mew Spain, and Chili, with their abundant mines of 
the precious metals, Hispaniola and Cxiba, and many other of the 
American islands, were provinces of the sovereign of Spain. 

Philip had, indeed, experienced the mortification of seeing the 
inhabitants of the Netherlands revolt against his authority, nor 
could he succeed in bringing back beneath the Si:)anish scepter 
all the possessions which his father had bequeathed to him. JUit 
he had reconquered a large number of the towns and districts 
that originally took up arms against him. Belgium was brought 
more thoroughly into implicit obedience to Spain than she had 
been before her insurrection, and it was only Holland and the six 
other northern states that still held out against his arms. The 
contest had also formed a compact and veteran army on Philip's 
side, which, under his great general, the Prince of Parma,, had 
been trained to act together under all difficulties and all vicissi- 
tudes of warfare, and on whose steadiness and loyalty perfect re- 
liance might be placed throughout any enterprise, however diffi- 
cult and tedious. Alexander Farnese, prince of Parma, captain 
general of the Spanish armies, and governor of the Spanish posses- 
sions in the Netherlands, was beyond all comparison the greatest 



DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 199 

military genius of his age. He was also highly distinguished for 
political wisdom and sagacity, and for his great administrative 
talents. He was idolized by his troops, whose affections he knew 
how to win without relaxing their discipline or diminishing his 
own authority. Pre-eminently cool and circumspect in his plans, 
but swift and energetic when the moment arrived for striking a 
decisive blow, neglecting no risk that caution could provide 
against, conciliating even the populations of the districts which he 
attacked by his scrupulous good faith, his moderation, and his 
address, Farnese was one the most formidable generals that ever 
could be placed at the head of an army designed not only to 
win battles, but to effect conquests. Happy it is for England and 
the world that this island was saved from becoming an arena for 
the exhibition of his powers. 

Whatever diminution the Spanish empire might have sustained 
in the Netherlands seemed to be more than compensated by the 
acquisition of Portugal, which Philip had completely conquer- 
ed in 1580. Not only that ancient kingdom itself, but all the 
fruits of the maritime enterprises of the Portuguese, had fallen 
into Philip's hands. All the Portuguese colonies in America, 
Africa, and the East Indies acknowledged the sovereignty of the 
King of Spain, who thus not only united the whole Iberian penin- 
sula under his single scepter, but had acquired a transmarine 
empire little inferior in wealth and extent to that which he had 
inherited at his accession. The splendid victory which his fleet, 
in conjunction with the papal and Venetian galleys, had gained 
at Lepanto over the Turks, had deservedly exalted the fame of the 
Spanish marine throughout Christendom; and when Philip had 
reigned thirty-five years, the vigor of his empire seemed unbroken, 
and the glory of the Spanish arms had increased, and was increas- 
ing throughout the world. 

One nation only had been his active, his persevering, and his 
successful foe. England had encouraged his revolted subjects in 
Flanders against him, and given them the aid in men and money, 
without which they must soon have been humbled in the dust. 
English ships had plundered his colonies; had defied his suprem- 
acy in the New World as well as the Old; they had inflicted 
ignominious defeats on his squadrons; they had captured his 
cities, and burned his arsenals on the very coast of Spain. The 
English had made Philip himself the object of personal insult. 
He was held up to ridicule in their stage-plays and masks, and 
these scoffs at the man had (as is not unusual in such cases) excited 
the anger of the absolute king even more vehemently than the m 
juries inflicted on his power.* Personal as well as politica- 
revenge urged him to attack England. Were she once subduedl 
the Dutch must submit ; France could not cope with him, the em, 

* See Kanke'a " Hist. Popes," vol, 11., p. 170. 



200 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

pire ■vrould not oppose liim ; and universal dominion seemed sure 
to be the result of the conquest of tl at iiialii^nnnt island. 

There was yet another and a stronger feeling Avhich armed King 
Philip against England. He ^Yas one of the sineerest and one of 
the sternest higots of his age. Ho looked on himself, and was 
looked on by others, as the apx^*^iiited champion to extirpate heresy 
and re-establish the papal power throughout Eurojie. A power- 
ful reaction against Trotestantism liacl taken phice since the 
commencement of the second half of the sixteenth century, and 
he looked on himself as destined to complete it. The Keformed 
doctrines had been thoroughly rooted out from Italy and Spain. 
Belgium, which had previously been half Protestant, had been 
reconquered both in allegiance antl creed by Philip, and had be- 
come one of the most Catholic countries in the world. Half 
Germany had been won back to the old faith. In Savoy, in 
Switzerland, and many other countries, the progress of the coun- 
ter-Reformation had been rapid and decisive. The Catholic 
league seemed victorious in France. The papal court itself had 
shaken off the supineness of recent centuries, and, at the head 
of the Jesuits and the other new ecclesiastical orders, w!is dis- 
playing a vigor and a boldness worthy of the days of Hildebrand, 
or Innocent III. 

Throughout continental Europe, the Protestants, discomfitted 
and dismayed, looked to England as their protector and refuge. 
England was the acknowledged central point of Protestant power 
and policy ; and to conquer England was to stab Protestantism to 
the very heart. Sixtus V., the then reigning pope, earnestly ex- 
horted Philip to this enterprise. And when the tidings reached 
Italy and Spain that the Protestant Queen of England had put to 
death her Catholic prisoner, Mary Queen of Scots, the fury of the 
Vatican and Escurial knew no bounds. Elizabeth was denounced 
as the murderous heretic w^hose destriiction was an instant duty. A 
formal treaty was concluded(in Jiine 1587), by which the pope 
bound himself to contribute a million of scudi to the expenses of the 
war; the money to be ]iaid as soon as the king had actual j^ossession 
of an English port. Philip, on his part, strained the resources of 
his vast empire to the utmost. The French Catholic chiefs eagerly 
co-operated with him. In the sea-ports of the Mediterranean, and 
along almost the w^hole coast from Gibraltar to Jutland, the pre- 
parations for the great armani' nt were urged forward with all the 
earnestness of religious zeal as well as of angry ambition. "Thus," 
says the German historian of the popes,* "thus did the united 
powers of Italy and Spain, from which such mighty influences had 
gone forth over the whole world, now rouse themselves for an at- 
tack upon England ! The king had already compiled, from the 
archives of Simancas, a statement of the claims which he had to 

* Kanke, vol. 11., p. 172. 



DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ABM AD A. £01 

the throne of that country on the extinction of the Stuart line ; 
the most brilliant prospects, especially that of a universal dornin- 
ion of the seas, were associated in his mind with this enterprise. 
Every thing seemed to conspire to such an end ; the predominancy 
of Catholicism in Germany, the renewed attack upon the Hugue- 
nots in France, the attempt upon Geneva, and the enterprise 
against England. At the same moment, a thoroughly Catholic 
prince, Sigismund III., ascended the throne of Poland, with the 
prospect also of future succession to the throne of Sweden. But 
whenever any principle or power, be it what it may, aims at un- 
limited supremacy in Europe, some vigorous resistance to it, hav- 
ing its origin in the deepest springs of human nature, invariably 
arises. Philip II. had to encounter newly, awakened powers, 
braced by the vigor of youth, and elevated by a sense of their 
future destiny. The intrepid corsairs, who had rendered every 
sea insecure, now clustered round the coasts of their native island. 
The Protestants in a body — even the Puritans, although they had 
been subjected to as severe oi)pressions as the Catholics — milled 
round their queen, who now gave admirable proof of her mascu- 
line courage, and her princely talent of winning the affections, and 
leading the minds, and preserving the allegiance of men." 

liunke should have added that the Enjilish Catholics at this 
crisis proved themselves as loyal to their queen and true to their 
country as were the most vehement anti-Catholic zealots in the 
island. Some few traitors there were ; but as a body, the English- 
men who held the ancient faith stood the trial of their patriotism 
nobly. Tlie lord admiral himself was a Catholic, and (to adopt 
the words of Hallam) "then it was that the Catholics in every 
county repaired to the standard of the lord lieutenant, imploring 
that they might not be su-spected of bartering the national inde- 
pendence for their religion itself." The Spaniard found no 
partisans in the country which he assailed, nor did England, self- 
wounded, 

" Lie at the proud foot of her enemy." 

For upward of a year the Spanish preparations had been active- 
ly and unremittingly urged forward. Negotiations were, during 
this time, carried on at Ostend, in which A^arious pretexts were as- 
signed by the Spanish commissioners for the gathering together of 
such huge masses of shipping, and such equipments of troops in 
all the sea-ports which their master ruled; but Philip himself took 
little care to disguise his intentions; nor could Elizabeth and her 
able ministers doubt but that this island was the real object of the 
Spanish armament. The peril that was wisely foreseen was reso- 
lutely provided for. Circular letters from the queen were sent 
round to the lord lieutenants of the several counties, requiring 
them "to call together the best sort of gentlemen under their leu- 
tenancy, and to declare unto them these great preparations and 



202 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

arrogant tlireatenings , now -burst forth in action npon the seas, 
wherein exery man's particular state, in the highest degree, could 
be touched in respect of country, liberty, wives, children, lands, 
lives, and (which was specially to be regarded) the profession of 
the true and sincere religion of Christ. And to lay before them the 
infinite and unspeakable miseries that would fall out upon any 
such change, which miseries were evidently seen by the fruits of 
that hard and cruel government holden in countries not far dis- 
tant. We do look," said the queen, "that the most part of them 
should have, upon this instant extraordinary occasion, a largerpro- 
portion of furniture, both for horsemen and footmen, but especially 
horsemen, than hath been certified, thereby to be in their best 
strength against any attempt, or to be employed about our own per- 
son, or otherwise. Hereunto as we doiibt not but by your good 
endeavors they will be the rather conformable so also we assure 
ourselves that Almighty God will so bless these their loyal hearts 
born towards us, their loving sovereign, and their natural country, 
that all the attempts of any enemy whatsoever shall be made void 
and frustrate, to their confusion, your comfort, and to God's high 
glory."* 

Letters of a similar kind were also sent by the council to each of 
the nobility, and to the great cities. The primate called on the 
clergy for their contributions; and by every class of the community 
the appeal was responded to with liberal zeal, that offered more even 
than the queen reqiiired. The boasting threats of the Spaniards 
had roused the spirit of the nation, and the whole people "were 
thoroughly irritated to stir up the whole forces for their defense 
against such prognosticated conquests; so that in a very short 
time, all her whole realm, and every corner, were furnished with 
armed men, on horseback and on foot; and those continually 
trained, exercised, and put into bands, in warlike manner, as in no 
age ever was before in this realm. There was no sparing of money 
to provide horse, armor, weapons, powder, and all necessaries; no, 
nor want of provision of pioneers, carriages, and victuals, in every 
county of the realm, without exception, to attend upon the armies. 
And to this general furniture every man voluntarily offered, very 
many their services personally without wages, others money for 
armor and weapons, and towage soldiers; a matter strange, and 
never the like heard of in this realm or elsewhere. And this general 
reason moved all men to large contributions, that when a conquest 
was to be withstood wherein all should be lost, it was no time to 
spare a portion. "f 

Our lion-hearted queen showed herself worthy of such a people. 
A camp was formed at Tilbury; and there Elizabeth rode through 

* Strype, cited In Southey's " Naval History.'' 

t Copy ol contemporary letter in tlie Harleian Collection, quoted by 
Soutliey. 



DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ABMADA. 203 

the ranks, encouraging her captains and her soldiers by her pres- 
ence and her words. One of the speeches which she addressed to 
them during this crisis has been preserved; and though olten 
quoted, it must not be omitted here. 

"My loving people," she said, "we have been persuaded by 
some that are careful of our safety to take heed how we commit our- 
selves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you 
I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and lovini^ people. 
Let tyrants fear ! I have always so behaved myself, that under God,f 
I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts 
and good will of my subjects; and, therefore,! am come among 
you, as you see, at tliis time, not for my recreation and disport, but 
being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die 
among you all, to lay down for my God, for my kingdom, and for 
my people, my honor and my blood even in tiie dust. I know I 
have the body but of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart 
and stomach of a king, and of a King cf England too, and think it 
foul scorn that Parma, or Spain, or any prince of Europe should 
dare to invade the borders of my realm, to which rather than any 
dishonor shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms, I myself will 
be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in 
the field. I know already' , for your forwardness, you have deserved 
rewards and crowns; and we do assure you, on the word of a prince 
they shall be duly paid you. In the mean time, my lieutenant gen- 
eral shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a 
more noble or worthy subject, not doubting but by your obedi- 
ence to my general, by your concord in the camp, and your valor 
in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those 
enemies of my God, of my kingdom and of my people." 

Some of Elizabeth's advisers recommended that the whole care 
and resources of the government should be devoted to the equip- 
ment of tlie armies, and that the enemy, when he attempted to 
land, should be welcomed with a battle on the shore. But the 
wiser counsels of Ealeigh and others prevailed, who urged the im- 
portance of fitting out a fleet that should encounter the Spaniards 
at sea, and, if possible, prevent them from approaching the land at 
all. In Baleigh's great work on the "History of the World," he 
takes occasion, when discussing some of the events of the first 
Punic war, to give his reasonings on the proper policy of England 
when menaced with invasion. Without doubt, we have there the 
substance of the advice which he gave to Elizabeth's council ; and 
the remarks of such a man on such a subject have a general and 
enduring interest, beyond the immediate crisis which called them 
forth. Kaleigh says :* " Surely I hold that the best way is to keep 
our enemies from treading upon our ground ; wherein if we fail, 
then must we seek to make him v^ish that he had stayed at his own 

tmmtf-^— «i . -— ■ — i'i I ' - « 

* " Historie of tlie WorlO," p. 799-801. 



204 DECISIVE J5^ TTLES. 

home. In such a case, if it should happen, onr judgments are to 
weigh many particular ciroumstnnees, that belongs not unto this 
discourse. ]>ut making the question general, the positive, Wheiher 
England, iciihout the help (f Iwr fleet, he ah. e to debar an enemy from 
landhuj, I hold that it is unable so to do, and therefore I think it 
most dangerous to make the adventxire; for the encouragement of 
a first victory to an enemy, and the discouragement of being 
beaten to the invaded, may draw after it a most perilous conse- 
quence. 

" Great difference I know there is, and a diverse consideration 
to bo had, between such a country as France is, strengthened with 
many fortified places, and this of ours, where our ramparts are 
but the bodies of men. lUit I say that an army to be transported 
over sea, and to be landed again in an enemy's country, and the 
place left to the choice of the invader, cannot be resisted on the 
coast of England withoiit a fleet to impeach it; no, nor on the 
coast of France, or any other country, except every creek, port, or 
sandy bay had a powerful army in each of them to make opposi- 
tion. For let the supposition be granted that Kent is able to fur- 
nish twelve thousand foot, and that those twelve thousand be layed 
in the three best landing-places within that country, to wit, three 
thoiTsand at ]\largat, three thousand at the Nesse, and six thousand 
at Foulkstor.e, tliat is, somewhat equally distant from them both, 
as also that two of these troops (unless some other order be thought 
more tit) be directed to strengthen the third, when they shall see 
the enemy's fleet to head toward it: I say, that notwithstanding 
this provision, if the enemy, setting sail from the Isle of "Wight, in 
the first watch of the night, and towing their long boats at their 
sterns, shall arrive by dawn of day at the Nesse, and thrust their 
army on shore there, it will be hard for those three thousand that 
are at ^largat (twenty-and-four long miles from thence) to come 
time enoiigh to re-enforce their fellows at the Nesse. Nay, how 
shall they at Foulkstone be able to do it, who are nearer by more 
than half the way *? seeing that the enemy, at his first arrival, will 
either make his entrance by force, with three or four shot of great 
artillery, and quickly put the first three thousand that are in- 
trenched at the Nesse to run, or else give them so much to do that 
they shall be glad to send for help to Foulkstone, and perhaps to 
Margat, whereby those places will be left bare. Now lot us sup- 
pose that all the twelve thousand Kentish soldiers arrive at the 
Nesse ere the enemy can be ready to disembarque his army, so 
that he will find it unsafe to land in the face of so many prepared 
to withstand him, yet must we believe that he will play the best 
to his own game (having liberty to go which way he list), jmd 
under covert of the night, set sail toward the east, where what 
shall hinder him to take ground either at Margat, the Downes, or 
elsewhere, before they at the Nesse can be well aware of his de- 
parture ':• Certainly there is nothing more easy than to do it. Yea, 



DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH AHMAD A, 206 

the like may be said of Weymouth, Purbeck, Poole, and of all 
landing-places on the southwest ; for there is no man ignorant that 
ships, without putting themselves out of breath, will easily outrun 
the soldiers that coast them. ^ Les armees ne volent poird en posie ,-' 
' Annies neither fly e nor run post, ' saith a marshal of Fran ce. And I 
know it to be true, that a fleet of ships may be seen at sunset, and 
after it at the Lizard, yet by the next morning thoy may recover 
Portland, whereas an army of foot shall not be able to march it in 
six dayes. Again, when those troops lodged on the sea-shores 
shall be forced to run from rdace to place in vain, after a fle-t of 
ships, they will at length sit down in the midway, and leave all at 
a Iventure. But say it were otherwise, that the invading enemy 
will offer to land in some such placo where there shall be an army 
f)f ours r;ady to receive him ; yet it cannot ])0 doubted but that 
when t!ie choice of all our trained bands, and the choice of our 
commanders and captains, shall be drawn together (as they were 
at Tillmry in the year 15b8) to attend the person of the jirince, 
and for the defense of the city of London, they that remain to 
guard the coast can be of no such force as to encounter an army 
like unto that wherewith it was intended that the Prince of Parma 
should have landed in England. 

"For end of this digression, I hope that this question shall never 
come to trial : his majesty's many movable forts will forbid the 
experience. And although the English will no less disdain, than 
any nation under heaven can do, to be beaten upon their own 
ground, or elsewhere, by a foreign enemy, yet to entertain those 
that shall assail us, with their own beef in their bellies and before 
they eat of our Kentish capons, I take it to be the wisest way ; to 
do which his majosty, after God, will employ his good ships on 
the sea, and not trust in any intrenchment upon the shore." 

The introduction of steam as a propelling power at sea has added 
ten-fold weight to these arguments of lialeigh. On the other hand, 
a well-constructed system of rail-ways, especially of coast-lines, 
aided Vjy the operation of the electric telegraph, would give facili- 
ties for concentrating a defensive army to oppose an enemy on 
landing, and for moving troops from place to place in observation 
of the movements of the hostile fleet, such as would have aston- 
ished Sir Walter, even more than the sight of vessels passing 
rapidly to and fro without the aid of wind or tide. The observation 
of the French marshal, whom he quotes, is now no longer correct. 
Armies can be made to pass from place to place almost with the 
speed of wings, and far more rapidly than any post-travelling that 
was known in the Elizabethan or any other age. Still, the pres- 
ence of a suflScient armed force at the right spot, at the right time, 
can never be made a matter of certainty ; and even after the 
changes that have taken place, no one can doubt but that the pol- 
icy of Raleigh is that which England should ever seek to follow in 
defensive war. At the time of the Armada, that policy certainly 



206 DECrSIVE BATTLES. 

Baved the conntry, if not from conquest, at least from deplorable 
calamities. If indeed the enemy had landed, we maybe sure that 
he wonld have been heroieally opposed. But history shows us so 
many examples of the superiority of veteran troops over new 
levies, however niimerous and brave, that, without disparaging 
our countrymen's soldierly merits, Ave may well be thankful that 
no trial of them was then made on English land. Especially 
must we feel this when we contrast the high Lvilitary genius of the 
Prince of Parma, who would have headed the Spaniards, with the 
imbecility of the Earl of Liecester, to whom thf> deplorable spirit 
of favoritism, which formed the great blemish on Elizabeth's char- 
acter, had then committed the chia^' '>Dmmimd of the English 
armies. 

The ships of the royal navy at thX Vime amounted to no more 
than thirty-six ; but the most se? •'iceable merchant vessels were 
collected from all the ports of tUe coxintry ; and the citizens of 
London, Bristol, and the othe^- great seats of commerce showed as 
liberal a zeal in eqiiipping and manning vessels, as the nobility 
and gentry displayed in mustering forces by land. The seafaring 
population of fie'coast, of every rank and station, was animated 
by the same 7 -ady spirit ; and the whole number of seamen who 
came forward to man the English Heet was 17,472. The number 
of the ships that were collected was 101 ; and the total amount of 
then* tonnage, 31,985. There was one ship in the fleet (the Tri- 
wnph) of 1160 tons, one of 1000, one of 900, two of 800 each, three 
of GOO, live of 500, five of -400, six of 300, six of 250, twenty of 200, 
and the residue of inferior burden. Application was made to the 
Dutch for assistance ; and, as Stowe expresses it, "The Hollanders 
came roundly in, with threescore sail, brave ships of war, tierce 
and full of spleen, not so much for England's aid, as in just occa- 
sion for tbeirown defense : these men foreseeing the greatness of 
ihe danger that might ensue if the Spaniards should chance to win 
the day and get the mastery over them; andindueregar(^ whereof,, 
their manly courage was inferior to none." 

"We have'move minute information of the number and equipment 
of the hostile forces than we have of our own. In the first volume 
of Hakluyt's "Voyages," dedicated to Lord Elfingham, who com- 
manded against the Armada, there is given (from the contemporary 
foreign writer, Meteran) a more complete and detailed catalogxie 
thanhas perhaps ever appeared of a similar^'mament. 

"A very large and particular description ot thisnavie was put in 
print and published by the Spaniards, wherein was set downe the 
number, names, and burthens of the shippes, the number of mar- 
iners and soldiers throughout the whole tieete ; likewise the quan- 
titie of their ordinance, of their armor, of bullets, of match, of 
gun-poulder, of victuals, and of all their navall furniture was in 
the saide description particularized. Unto all these were added 
the names of the govornours, captaines, noblemen, and gentlemen 



DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA, 207 

voluntaries, of whom there was so great a multitude, that scarce 
was there any family of accompt.or any one principall man through- 
out all Spaine, that had not a brother, sonne, px kinsman in that 
fleete ; who all of them were in good hope to purchase unto them- 
selves in that navie (as they termed it) invincible, endless glory 
and renown, and to possess themselves of great seigniories and 
riches in England and in the Low Countrcys. But because the 
said description was translated and published out of Spanish into 
divers other languages, we will here only make an abridgement or 
brief rehearsal thereof. 

"Portugall furnished and set foorth under the conduct of the 
Duke of Medina Sidonia, generall of the fleete, 10 galeons, 2 zabraes 
1300 mariners, 3,300 soldiers, 300 great pieces, with all requisite 
furniture, 

" Biscay, under the conduct of John Martines de Eicalde, admi- 
ral of the whole fleete, set forth 10 galeons, 4 pataches, 700 mariners, 
2000 soldiers, 250 great pieces, &c. 

"Guipusco, under the conduct of Michael de Oquendo, 10 gal- 
eons, 4 pataches, 700 mariners, 2,000 souldiers, 310 great pieces. 

"Italy, with the Levant islands, under Martine de Vertendona, 
10 galeons, 700 mariners, 2,000 souldiers, 310 great pieces, &c. 

"Castile, under Diego Flores de Valdez, 14 galeons, 2 pataches, 
1700 mariners, 2,400 souldiers, and 380 great pieces, &c. 

"Andalusia, under the conduct of Petro de Valdez, 10 galeons,! 
patache, 800 mariners, 2,400 souldiers, 280 great pieces, &c. 

"Item, under the conduct of John Lopez de Medina, 23 great 
Flemish hulkes, with 700 mariners, 3,200 souldiers, and 400 great 
pieces. 

" Item, under Hugo de Moncada, 4 galliasses, containing 1200 
gally-slaves, 460 mariners, 870 souldiers, 200 great pieces, &c. 

"Item, under Diego de Mandrana, 4 gallies of Portugall, with 
888 gally-slaves, 3G0 mariners, 20 great pieces, and other requisite 
furniture. 

"Item, under Anthonie de Mendoza, 22 pataches and zabraes, 
with 574 mariners, 488 souldiers, and 193 great pieces. 

" Besides the ships aforementioned, there were 20 caravels, 
rowed with oars, being appointed to perform necessary services 
under the greater ships, insomuch as all the ships appertayning 
to this navie amounted unto the summe of 150, eche one being 
sufficiently provided of furniture and victuals. 

" The number of mariners in the saide fleete were above 8,000, 
of slaves 2,088 of souldiers 20,000 (besides noblemen and gentlemen 
voluntaries), of great cast pieces 2, GOO. The foresaid ships were 
of an huge and incredible capacitieand receipt, for the whole fleete 
was large enough to containe the burthen of 60,000 tunnes. 

" The galeons were 64 in number, being of an huge bignesse, and 
very flately built, being of marveilons force also, and so high that 
th»y resembled great castles, most fit to defend themselves and to 



208 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

■withstand any assault, but in giving any other ships the encounter 
farr inferiour unto the English and Dutch ships, which can with 
great dexteritie wield and turne themselves at all assayes. The 
upper worke of the said galeons was of thicknesse and strength suf- 
ficient to beare off musket-shot. The lower worke and the timbers 
thereof were out of measure strong, being framed of planks and 
ribs foure or five foote in thicknesse, insomuch that no bullets 
coiild pierce them but such as were discharged hard at hand, wjiich 
afterward prooved true, for great number of bullets Avere founde 
to sticke fast within the massie substance of those thicke plankes. 
Great and well-pitched cables were twined about the masts of their 
shippes, to strengthen them against the battery of shot. 

•* The galliasses were of such bignesse that they contained within 
them chambers, chapels, turrets, pulpits and other commodities of 
great houses. The galliasses were rowed with great oares, there being 
in eche one of them 300 slaves for the same purpose, and were able 
to do great service with the force of their ordinance. All these, 
together with the residue aforenamed, were furnished and beauti- 
fied with trumpets, streamers, banners, warlike ensignes, and other 
such like ornaments. 

" Their pieces of brazen ordinance were 1600, and of yron a 
1000. 

"The bullets thereto belonging were 120,000. 

"Item of gun-poulder, 5,600 quintals. Of matche, 1200 quin- 
tals. Of muskets and kaleivers, 7,000. Of haleberts and partizans, 
10,000. 

"Moreover, they had great stores of canons, double-canons, 
culverings and field-pieces for land services. 

"Likewise they were provided of all instruments necessary on 
land to conveigh and transport their furniture from place to place, 
as namely of carts, wheeles, wagons, &c. Also they had spades, 
mattocks, and baskets to set piouers on worke. They had in like 
sort great store of mules and horses, and whatsoever else was 
requisite for a land armie. They were so well stored of biscuit, 
that for the space of halfe a yeere they might allow eche person 
in the whole fleete halfe a quintall every moneth, whereof the 
whole summe amounteth unto an hundreth thousand quintals. 

"Likewise of wine they had 147,000 pipes, sufficient also for 
halfe a yeere's expedition. Of bacon, 6,500 quintals. Of cheese, 
3,000 quintals. Besides fish, rise, beanes, pease, oile, vinegar, &c. 

Moreover, they had 12,000 pipes of fresh water, and all other 
necessary provision as namely, candles, lanternes, lampes, sailes, 
hempe, oxe-hides, and lead, to stop holes that should be made with 
the battery of gunshot. To be short, they brought all things ex- 
pedient, either for a fieete by sea, or for an armie by land. 

"This navie (as Diego Pimei:telli afterward confessed) was es- 
teemed by the king himselfe to containe 32,000 persons, and to 
cost him every day 30,000 ducates. 



DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 209 

"There were in the said navie five terzaes of Spaniards (which 
terzaes the Frenchmen call regiments), under the command of 
five governours, termed by the Spaniards masters of the field, 
and among the rest there were many olde and expert souldiers 
chosen out of the garisons of Sicilie, Naples, and Tergera. Their 
captaines or colonels were Diego Pimentelli, Don Francisco de 
Toledo, Don Alongo de Lugon, Don Nicolas de Isla, Don Augus- 
tin de Mexia, who had eche of them thirty-two companies under 
their conduct. Besides the which companies, there were many 
bands also of Castilians and Portugals, every one of which had 
their peculiar governours, captains, officers, colors, and weapons." 

While this huge armament was making ready in the southern 
ports of the Spanish dominions, the Duke of Parma, with almost 
incredible toil and skill, collected a squadron of war-ships at Dun- 
kirk, and a large flotilla of other ships and of flat-bottomed boats 
for the transport to England of the picked troops, which were 
designed to be the main instruments in subduing England. The 
design of the Spaniards was that the Armada should give them, at 
least for a time, the command of the sea, and that it should join 
the squadron that Parma had collected off Calais. Then, escorted 
by an overpowering naval force, Parma and his army were to em- 
bark in their flotilla, and cross the sea to England, where they 
were to be landed, together with the troops which the Armada 
brought from the ports of Spain. The scheme was not dissimilar 
to one formed against England a little more than two centuries 
afterward. 

As Napoleon, in 1805, waited with his army and flotilla at 
Boulogne, looking for Villeneuve to drive away the English cruisers, 
and secure him a passage across the Channel, so Parma, in 1588, 
waited for Medina Sidonia to drive away the Dutch and English 
squadrons that watched his flotilla, and to enable his veterans to 
cross the sea to the land that they were to conquer. Thanks to 
Providence, in each case England's enemy waited in vain ! 

Although the numbers of sail which the queen's government and 
the patriotic zeal of volunteers had collected for the defense of 
England exceeded the number of sail in the Spanish fleet, the 
English ships were, collectively, far inferior in size to their adver- 
saries, their aggregate tonnage being less by half than that of the 
enemy. In the number of guns and weight of metal, the dispro- 
portion was still greater. The English admiral was also obliged 
to subdivide his force ; and Lord Henry Seymour, with forty of 
the best Dutch and English ships, was employed in blockading 
the hostile ports in Flanders, and in preventing the Duke of Parma 
from coming out of Dunkirk. 

The Invincible Aemada, as the Spaniards in the pride of their 
hearts named it, set sail from the Tagus on the 29th of May, but 
near Corunna met with, a tempest that drove it into port with 
Mvere loss. It was the report of the damage done to the enemy 



210 DECISITE BATTLES. 

by this storm wliicli liacl caused the English court to suppose that 
there -wouhl be no invasion that year. But, as already mentioned, 
the English admiral had sailed to Corunna, and learned the real 
state of the case, whence he had returned with his ships to 
Plymouth, The Armada sailed again from Corunna on the 12th of 
July. The orders of King Philip to the Duke de Medina Sidonia 
•were, that he should, on entering the Channel, keep near the 
French coast, and, if attacked by the English ships, avoid an action 
and steer on to Calais Roads, where the Prince of Parma's squadron, 
■was to join him. The hopes of surprising and destroying the 
English Heet in Plymouth led the Spanish admiral to deviate from 
these orders and to stand across to the English shore ; but, on 
finding that Lord Howard was coming out to meet him, he resumed 
the original plan, and determined to bend his way steadily toward 
Calais and Dunkirk, and to keep merely on the defensive against 
such squadrons of the English as might come up with him. 

It was on Saturday, the 20th of July, that Lord Effingham came 
in sight of his formidable adversaries. The Armada was drawn 
up in the form of a crescent, which, from horn to horn, measured 
some seven miles. There was a southwest wind, and before it the 
vast vessels sailed slowly on. The English let them pass by ; and 
then following in the rear, commenced an attack on them. A 
running fight now took place, in which some of the best ships of 
the Spaniards were captured ; many more received heavy damage ; 
while the English vessels, which took care not to close with their 
huge antagonists, but availed themselves of their superior celerity 
in tacking and maneuvering, suffered little comparative loss. Each 
day added not only to the spirit, but to the number of Effingham's 
force. Ealeigh, Oxford, Cumberland, and Sheffield joined him ; 
and *'the gentlemen of England hired ships from all parts at their 
own charge, and with one accord came flocking thither as to a set 
field, where glory was to be attained, and faithful service performed 
unto their prince and their country." 

Ealeigh justly praises the English admiral for his skilful tactics. 
Ealeigh says,* "Certainly, he that will happily perform a fight at 
sea must be skilful in making choice of vessels to fight in : he 
must believe that there is more belonging to a good man of war, 
upon the waters, than great daring ; and must know, that there is 
a great deal of difference between fighting loose or at large and 
grappling. The guns of a slow ship pierce as well, and make as 
great lioles, as those in a swift. To clap ships together, without 
consideration, belongs rather to a madman than to a man of war; for 
by such an ignorant bravery was Peter Strossie lost at the Azores, 
when he fought against the ]Marquis of Santa Cruza. In like sort 
had the Lord Charles Howard, admiral of England, been lost in 
the year 1588, if he had not been better advised than a great many 

* " Hl^»rle of tiie World," p. 791. 



DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 211 

malignant fools were that found fault with his demeanor. The 
Spaniards had an army aboard them, and he had none ; they had 
more ships than he had , and of higher building and charging ; so 
that, had he entangled himself with those great and powerful 
vessels, he had greatly endangered this kingdom of England ; for 
twenty men upon the defenses are equal to a hundred that board 
and enter ; whereas then, contrariwise, the Spaniards had a hun- 
dred, for twenty of ours, to defend themselves withal. But our 
admiral knew his advantage, and held it ; which had he not done, 
he had not been worthy to have held his head." 
' The Spanish admiral also showed great judgment and firmness 
in following the line of conduct that had been traced out for him ; 
and on the 27th of July, he brought his fleet unbroken, though 
sorely distressed, to anchor in Calais Eoads. But the King of Spain 
had calculated ill the number and the activity of the English and 
Dutch fleets ; as the old historian expresses it, "It seemeth that 
the Duke of Parma and the Spaniards grounded upon a vain and 
presum]ptuous expectation, that all the ships of England and of 
the Low Countreys would at the first sight of the Spanish and 
Dunkerk navie have betaken themselves to flight, yielding them 
sea-room, and endeavoring only to defend themselves, their havens, 
and sea-coasts from invasion. Wherefore their intent and purpose 
was, that the Duke of Parma, in his small and flat-bottomed ships, 
should, as it were under the shadow and wings of the Spanish 
fleet, convey ouer all his troupes, armor, and war-like provisions, 
and with their forces so united, should invade England : or while 
the English fleet were busied in fight against the Spanish, should 
enter upon any part of the coast, which he thought to be most 
convenient. Which invasion (as the captives afterward confessed) 
the Duke of Parma thought first to have attempted by the River of 
Thames ; upon the banks whereof having at the first arrivall 
landed twenty or thirty thousand of his principall souldiers,he sup- 
posed that he might easily have woonne the citie of London ; both 
because his small shippes should have followed and assisted his 
land forces, and also for that the citie it-selfe was but meanely 
fortified and easie to ouercome, by reason of the citizens' delicacie 
and discontinuance from the warres, who, with contmuall and 
constant labor, might be vanquished, if they yielded not at the 
first assault."* 

But the English and Dutch found ships and mariners enough to 
keep the Armada itself in check, and at the same time to block up 
Parma's flotilla. The greater part of Seymour's squadron left its 
cruising-ground ofl" Dunkirk to join the English admiral off 
Calais ; but the Dutch manned about five-and-thirty sail of good 
ships, with a strong force of soldiers on board, all well seasoned to 
the sea-service, and with these they blockaded the Flemish ports 

• Hakluyt's " Voyages,'' vol. I., p. 60i. 



212 DECISnrE BATTLES. 

that were in Pnrma's power. Still it was resolved by the Spanish 
admiral and tlie prince to endeavor to eftecta junction, which the 
English seamen M-ere equally resolute to prevent ; and bolder 
measures on our side now became necessary. 

The Armada lay off Calais, with its largest ships ranged outside, 
" like strong castles fearing no assault, the lesser placed in the 
middle war^." The English admiral could not attack them in 
their position without great disadvantage, but on the night of the 
29th he sent eight lire-ships among them, with almost equal effect 
to that of the tire-ships Avhicli the Greeks so often employed against 
the Turkish tleets in their late war of independence. The Span- 
iards cut their cables and put to sea in confusion. One of the 
largest galeasses ran foul of another vessel and was stranded. 
The rest of the tieet was scattered about on the Flemish coast, and 
when the morning broke, it was with dithculty and delay that 
they obeyed their admiral's signal to range themselves round him 
near Gravelines. Now was the golden opportunity for the English 
to assail them, and prevent them from ever letting loose Parma's 
flotilla against England, and nobly was that opportimity used. 
Drake and Fenner were the first English captains who attacked 
the unwieldy leviathans ; then came Fenton, Southwell, Burton, 
Cross, Eaynor, and then the lord admiral, with Lord Thomas 
Howarti and Lord Sheffield, The Spaniards only thought of form- 
ing and keeping close together, and were driven by the English 
past Dunkirk, and far away from the Prince of Parma, who, in 
watching their defeat from the coast, must, as Drake expressed it, 
have chafed like a bear robbed of her whelps. This was indeed 
the last and the decisive battle between the two fleets. It is, per- 
haps, best described in the very words of the contemporary 
writer, as we may read them in Hakluy t. * 

"Upon the iOth of Jiily in the morning, the Spanish fleet after 
the forsayd tumult, having arranged themselues againe into order, 
were, within sight of Greveling, most bravely and furiously en- 
countered by the English, where they once again got the wind of 
the Spaniards, who suffered themseues to be dejirivedof the com- 
modity of the place in Caleis lload, and of the advantage of the 
wind neer nnto Dunkerk, rather than they would change their ar- 
n\y or separate their forces now conjoyned and united together, 
standing only upon their defense. 

** And albeit there were many excellent and warlike ships in the 
English fleet, yet scarce were there 22 or 23 among them all, 
which miltchecl 90 of the Spanish ships in the bigness, or could 
conveniently assault them. Wherefore the English shippes nsing 
their prerogative of nimble steerage, whereby they could turn and 
weild themselves with the wind which way they listed, came 
often times very near upon the Spaniards, and charged them so 

Vol t-, p. 602. 



DEFEAT OF THE SPAMSII ARMADA. 2l» 

sore, that now and then they were but a pike's length asunder ; 
and so continually giving them one broad side after another, they 
discharged all their shot, both great and small, upon them, spend- 
ing one whole day, from morning till night, in that violent kind 
of conflict, untill such time as powder and bullets failed them. 
In regard of which want they thought it convenient not to pursue 
the Spaniards any longer, because they had many great vantages 
of the English, namely, for the extraordinary bigness of their 
shippes, and also for that they were so neerely conjoyned, and 
kept together in so good array, that they could by no meanes be 
fought withall one to one. The English thought, therefore, that 
they had right well acquitted themselves in chasing the Span • 
iards first from Caleis, and then from Dnnkerk, and by that meanes 
to have hindered them from joyning with the Duke of Parma his 
forces, and getting the wind of them, to have driven them from 
their own coasts. 

"The Spaniards that day sustained great loss and damage, hav- 
ing many of their shippes shot thorow and thorow, and they dis- 
charged likewise great store of ordinance against the English ; 
who, indeed, sustained some hinderance, but not comparable to 
the Spaniard's loss ; for they lost not any one ship or person of 
account; for very diligent inquisition being made, the Englishmen 
all that time wherein the Spanish navy saj'led upon their seas, 
are not found to haue wanted aboue one hundred of their people ; 
albeit Sir Francis Drake's ship was pierced with shot aboue forty 
times, and his very cabben was twice shot thorow, and about the 
conclusion of the fight, the bed of a certaine gentleman lying 
weary thereupon, was taken quite from under him with the force 
of a bullet. Likewise, as the Earle of Northumberland and Sir 
Charles Blunt were at dinner upon a time, the bullet of a demy- 
culvering brake thorow the middest of their cabben, touched their 
feet, and strooke downe two of the standers-by, with many such 
accidents befalling the English shippes, which it were tedious to 
rehearse." 

It reflects little credit on the English government that the En- 
glish fleet was so deficiently supplied with ammunition as to be 
unable to complete the destruction of the invaders. But enough 
was d :ne to insure it. Many of the largest Spanish ships were 
sunk or captured in the action of this day. And at length the 
Spanish admiral, despairing of success, fled northward with a 
southerly wind, in the hope of rounding Scotland, and so return- 
ing to Spain without a farther encounter with the English fleet. 
Lord Effingham left a squadron to continue the blockade of the 
Prince of Parma's armament; but that wise general soon withdrew 
his troops to more promising fields of action. Meanwhile the lord 
admiral himself, and Drake, chased the vincible Armada, as it was 
now termed, for some distance northward; and then, when they 
seemed to bend away from th« Scotch coast toward Norway, it wa« 



214 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

thoiiglit best, in the wonls of Drake, ''to leave tliem to tliose bois- 
teroiis and nneonth Northern seas." 

The suli'erings and losses wliieh the nnhappy Spaniards sustain- 
ed in their tlight roiind iS.'otlaud and Ireland are wtdl kno\Yn. Of 
their whole Ann ida only tifty-tliree shattered vessels brought back 
their beat^^n and wasted crews to the Spanish coast which they 
had quitted in such pageantry and pride. 

Some passages from the writings of those who took part in the 
struggle have been already quoted, and the most spirited descrip- 
tion of the defeat of the Armada which ever was penned may 
perhaps be taken from the letter which our brave Vice-admiral 
Drake wrote in answer to some mendacious stories by which the 
Spaniards strove to hide their shame. Thus does he describe the 
scenes in which he played so important a part.* 

•'They were not ashamed to publish, in sundry langu:iges in 
print, great victories in words, which they pretended to have ob- 
tained against this realm, and spread the same in a most false sort 
over all parts of France, Italy, and elsewhere; when, shortly after- 
ward, it was happily manifested in very deed to all nations, how 
their navy, which they termed invincible, consisting of one hundred 
and forty sail of ships, not only of their own kingdom, biit 
strengthened with the greatest argosies, Portugal carracks, Floren- 
tines, and large hulks of other countries, were by thirty of her 
majesty's own ships of war, and a few of our own merchants, by 
the wise, valiant, and advantageous conduct of the Lord Charles 
Howard, high admiral of England, beaten and shutiied together 
even from the Lizard in Cornwall, lirst to Portland, when they 
shamefully left Don Pedro de Valdez with his mighty ship; from 
Portland to Calais, where they lost Hugh de Moucado, with the 
galleys of which he was captain; and from Calais, driven with 
squibs from their anchors, were chased out of the sight of England, 
round about Scotland and Ireland; where, for the sympathy of 
their religion, hoping to tind succor and assistance, a great part of 
them were crushed against the rocks, and tliose others that land- 
ed, being very many in number, were, notwithstanding, broken, 
skin, and taken, and so sent from village to village, coupled in 
halters to be shipped into England, where her majesty, of her 
princely and invincible disposition, disdaining to put them to 
death, and scorning either to retain or to entertain them, they 
were all sent back again to their countries, to witness and recount 
the worthy achievement of their invincible and dreadful navy. Of 
which the number of soldiers, the fearful burden of their ships, 
the commanders' names of every squadron, with all others, their 
magazines of provision, were put in print, as an army and navy 
irresistible and disdaining prevention; with all which their great 

* See Staype, and tiie noce? *<> the Lilo o£ Drake, in tUe ♦' Blographia 
Brttannlrta *' 



Synopsis of events, etc. 216 

nnd terrible ostentation, they did not in all their sailing round 
about England so much as sink or take one ship, barque, pinnace, 
or cock-boat of ours, or even bum so much as one sheep-cote on 
this land." 



Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Assiada, 
A.D. 1588, AND THE Battle OF Blenheim, a.d. 1704. 

A.D. 1594. Henry IV. of France conforms to the Roman Catho- 
lic Church and ends the civil wars that had long desolated France. 

1598. Philip II. of Spain dies leaving a ruined navy and an ex- 
hausted kingdom. 

1G03. Death of Queen Elizabeth. The Scotch dynasty of the 
Stuarts succeeds the throne of England. 

1619. Commencement of the Thirty Years' War in Germany. 

1624-1G42. Cardinal liicheliou is minister of France. He breaks 
the power of nobility, reduces the Huguenots to complete subjec- 
tion, and by aiding the Protestant German princes in the latter 
part of the Thirty Years' War, he humiliates France's ancient rival, 
Austria. 

1630. Gustavus Adolphus,King of Sweden, marches into Germany 
to the assistance of the Protestants, who were nearly crushed by 
the Austrian armies. He gains several groat victories, and afterhis 
death, Sweden, under his statesmen and generals, continues to 
take a leading part in the war. 

1640. Portugal throws off the Spanish yoke; and the house of Bra- 
ganza begins to reign. 

1642. Commencement of the civil war in England between Charles 
I. and his Parliament. 

1648. The Thirty Years' War in Germany ended by the treaty of 
Westphalia. 

1653. Oliver Cromwell Lord Protector of England. 

1660. Restoration of the Stuarts to the English throne. 

1661. Louis XIV. takes the administration of affairs in France 
into his own hands. 

1667-1668. Louis XIV. makes war upon Spain, and conquers a 
large part of the Spanish Netherlands. 

1672. Louis makes war upon Holland, and almost overpowers it. 
Charles II., of England, is his pensioner, and England helps the 
French in their attacks ujjon Holland until 1674. Heroic resistance 
of the Dutch under the Prince of Orange. 

1674. Louis conquers Franche-Comte. 

1679. Peace of Nimeguen. 

1081. Louis invades and occupies Alsace. 

1682. Accession of i*eter the Great to the throne of Russia, 



216 DECimvn BATTLES. 

1685. Louis commences a merciless persecution of his Protes- 
tant subjects. 

1688. The glorious Kevolution in England. Expulsion of James 
n. William of Orange is made King of England. James takes 
refuge at the French court, and Louis undertakes to restore him. 
General war in the west of Europe. 

1697. Treaty of Kyswick. Charles XII. becomes King of Swe- 
den. 

1700. Charles IL, of Spain, dies, having bequeathed his domin- 
ions to Philip of Anjou, Louis XIV. 's grandson. Defeat of the Kus- 
sians at Narva by Charles XIL 

1701. Willam III. forms a "Grand Alliance" of Austria, the Em- 
pire, the United Provinces, England, and other powers, against 
France. 

1702. King "William dies; but his successor, Queen Anne, adheres 
to the Grand Alliance, and war is proclaimed against France. 



CHAPTEB XI. 

THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM, A.D. 1704. 

The decisive blow struck at Blenlieim resounded through every part oJ 
Europe : It at once destroyed the vast lahrlc of power which It had taken 
Louis XIV., aided hy the talents of Turenne and the genius of "Vauhan, so 
long to construct.— Alison. 

Though more slowly moulded and less imposingly vast than the 
empire of Napoleon, the power which Louis XIY. had acquired 
and was acquiring at the commencement of the eighteenth century 
was almost equally menacing to the general liberties of Europe. 
If tested by the amount of permanent aggrandizement which each 
procured for France, the ambition of the royal Bourbon was more 
successful than were the enterprises of the imperial Corsican. All 
the provinces that Bonaparte conquered were rent again from 
France within twenty years from the date when the very earliest of 
them was acquired. France is not stronger by a single city or a 
single acre for all the devastating wars of the Consulate and the 
Empire, But she still possesses Franche-Comte, Alsace, and part 
of Flanders. She has still the extended boundaries which Louis 
XIV. gave her ; and the royal Spanish marriage a few years ago 
proved clearly how enduring has been the political influence which 
the arts and arms of France's "Grand Monarque " obtained for her 
Bouthward of the Pyrenees. 

When Louis XIV. took the reins of government into his own 
hands, after the death of Cardinal Mazarin, there was a union of 
ability with opportunity such as France had not seen since the 



BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 217 

days of Charlemagne. Moreover, Louis's career was no brief one. 
For upward of forty years, for a period nearly equal to the dura- 
tion of Charlemagne's reign, Louis steadily followed an aggressive 
and a generally successful policy. He passed a long youth and 
manhood of triumph before the military genius of Marlborough 
made him acquainted with humiliation and defeat. The great 
Bourbon lived too long. He should not have outstayed our two 
English kings, one his dependent, James II., the other his antag- 
onist, William III. Had he died when they died, his reign would 
be cited as unequalled in the French annals for its prosperity. 
But he lived on to see his armies beaten, his cities captured, and 
his kingdom wasted year after year by disastrous war. It is as if 
Charlemagne had survived to be defeated by the Northmen, and 
to witness the misery and shame that actually fell to the lot of his 
descendants. 

Still, Louis XIY. had forty years of success ; and froni the per- 
manence of their fruits, we may judge what the results w6uld have 
been if the last fifteen years of his reign had been equally fortu- 
nate. Had it not been for Blenheim, all Europe might at this day 
suffer under the effect of French conquests resembling those of 
Alexander in extent, and those of the Romans in durability. 

When Louis XIV. began to govern, he found all the materials 
for a strong government ready to his hand. Eichelieu had com- 
pletely tamed the turbulent spirit of the French nobility, and had 
subverted the "imperium in imperio" of the Huguenots. The 
faction of the Frondeurs in Mazarin's time had had the effect of 
making the Parisian Parliament utterly hateful and contemptible 
in the ey^s of the nation. The Assemblies of the States-General 
were obsolete. The royal authority alone remained. The king 
was the state. Louis knew his position. He fearlessly avowed it, 
and he fearlessly acted up to it. * 

Not only was his government a strong one, but the country 
which he governed was strong — strong in its geographical situation, 
in the compactness of its territory, in the number and martial 
spirit of its inhabitants, and in their complete and undivided 
nationality. Louis had neither a Hungary nor an Ireland in his 
dominions. The civil war in the Cevennes was caused solely by 
his own persecuting intolerance ; and that did not occur till lata 
in his reign, when old age made his bigotry more gloomy, and 
had given fanaticism the mastery over prudence. 

Like Napoleon in after times, Louis XIV. saw clearly that the 
great wants of France were " ships, colonies, and commerce." But 
Louis did more than see these wants ; by the aid of his great min- 
ister, Colbert, he supplied them. One of the surest proofs of the 



* " Quand Louis XIV. dit, ' L'Etat, c'est mol . ' 11 n'y eut dans cette parole 
nl enflure, ni vantere, mais la simple enonciation d'ur Iait."~MiCHELET Eis-- 
tetre Modwnet vol. U., p. 106, 



Sl8 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

genius of Louis -was his skill in finding out genius in others, and 
his promptness in calling it into action. Under him, Louvois 
organized, Turenne, Conde, Villars, and Berwick led the armies of 
France, and Vauban fortified her frontiers. Throughout his 
reign, French diplomacy was marked by skilfulness and activity, 
and also by comprehensive far-sightedness, such as the represen- 
tatives of no other nation possessed. Guizot's testimony to the 
vigor that was displayed through every brancli of Louis XIV. 's 
government, and to the extent to which France at present is in- 
debted to him, is remarkable. He says that, " taking the public 
services of every kind, the finances, the departments of roads and 
public works, the military administration, and all the establish- 
ments which iDelong to every branch of administration, there is not 
one that will not be found to have had its origin, its development, 
or its greatest perfection under the reign of Louis XIV."* And he 
points out to us that "the government of Louis XIV. was the first 
that presented itself to the eyes of Europe as a power acting upon 
sure grounds, which had not to dispute its existence with inward 
enemies, but was at ease as to its territory and its people, and 
solely occupied with the task of administering government prop- 
erly so called. All the European governments had been previously 
thrown into incessant wars, which deprived them of all security 
as well as of all leisure, or so pestered by internal parties or antag- 
onists that their time was passed in fighting for existence. The 
government of Louis XIV. was the first to appear as a busy, thriv- 
ing administration of afiairs, as a power at once definitive and pro- 
gressive, which was not afraid to innovate, because it could reckon 
securely on the future. There have been, in fact, very few govern- 
ments equally innovating. Compare it with a government of the 
same nature, the unmixed monarchy of Philip II. in Spain ; it was 
more absolute than that of Louis XIV., and yet it was less regular 
and tranquil. How did Philip II. succeed in establishing absolute 
power in Spain ? By stifling all activity in the country, opposing 
himself to every species of amelioration, and rendering the 
state of Spain completely stagnant. The government of Louis 
XIV., on the contrary, exhibited alacrity for all sorts of innova- 
tions, and showed itself favorable to the progress of letters, arts, 
wealth — in short, of civilization. This was the veritable cause of 
its preponderance in Europe, which arose to such a pitch, that it 
became the type of a government not only to sovereigns, but also 
to nations, during the seventeenth century." 

While France was thus strong and united in herself, and ruled 
by a martial, an ambitious, and (with all his faults) an enlightened 
and high-spirited sovereign, what European power was there fit 
to cope with her or keep her in check ? 

*' As to Germany, the ambitious projects of the German branch 

* •* Hlstary of European Clvllizatioii," Leetur© 13, 



:BATTLE of BLENHEIM. 21^ 

of Austria had been entirely defeated, tlie peace of the empire had 
been restored, and almost a new constitution formed, or an old 
revived, by the treaties of Westphalia ; nay, the imperial eagle was 
not only fallen, hut her wings were clipped.''"* 

As to Spain, the Spanish branch of the Austrian house had sunk 
equally low. Philip II. left his successors a ruined monarchy. 
He left them something worse ; he left them his example and his 
principles of government, founded in ambition, in pride, in igno- 
rance, in bigotry, and all the pedantry of state, f 

It is not, therefore, to be wondered at. that France, in the first 
war of Louis XIV., despised the opposition of both branches of the 
once predominant house of Austria. Indeed, in Germany, the 
French king acquired allies among the princes of the empire against 
the emperor himself. He had a still stronger support in Austria's 
misgovernment of her own subjects. The words of Bolingbroke 
on this are remarkable, and some of them sound as if written within 
the last three years. Bolingbroke says, "It was not merely the 
want of cordial co-operation amorg the princes of the empire that 
disabled the emperor from acting with viLor in the caurse of his 
family then, nor that has rendered the house of Austria a dead 
weight upon all her allies ever since. Bigotry, and its inseparable 
companion, cruelty, as well as the tyranny and avarice of the court 
of Vienna, created in those days, and has maintained in ours, 
almost a perpetual diversion of the imperial arms from all effectual 
opposition to France. / mean to speak of the troubles in Hungary. 
Whatever they became in their progress, they were caused originally by 
-the usurpations and persecutions of the emperor; and when the Hun- 
garians were called rebels first, they were called so for no other reason 
than this, that they would not be slaves. • The dominion of the emperor 
being less supportable than that of the Turks, this unhappy people 
opened a door to the latter to infest the empire, instead of making 
their country what it had been before, a barrier against the Ottoman 
power. France became a sure though secret ally of the Turks as 
well as the Hungarians, and has found her account in it by keeping 
the emperor in perpetual alarms on that side, while she has ravaged 
the empire and the Low Countries on the other.":}: 

If, after having seen the imbecility of Germany and Spain 

* Bolingbroke, vol. ii., p. 3T8. Lord Bolingbroke's ' Letters on the Use of 
History,'' and his " iSketch of the History and state of Europe," abound 
with remarks on Louis XIV. and his contemporaries, of which the substance 
is as sound as tlie style is beautiful, infi-rtunately, like all his other 
works, they contain also a large proportion of sophistry and misrepresenta- 
tion. The best test to use before we adopt any opinion or assertion of 
Bohngbroke's, Is to consider whetlier in writing it he was thinking either of 
Mr Robert Walpole or of Kevealed Kellglon. When either of these objects 
of his hatred was before his mind, he scrupled at no artifice or exaggeration 
that might serve the purpose of lus mahgnity. On most other occasions he 
may be followed with advantage, as he always may be read with pleasure. 

t Boiingftroke, vol. 11,. p. 378. $ Bolingbroke, voL il., p. 39T, 



220 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

against the France of Lonis XIV., -we turn to the two only remain- 
ing European powers of any importance at that time, to England 
and to Holland, we find the position of our own country as to 
European politics, from 1660 to 1688, most painful to contemplate ; 
nor is our external history during the last twelve years of the 
eighteenth century by any means satisfactory to national pride, 
though it is infinitely less shameful than that of the preceding 
twenty-eight years. From 1660 to 1668, "England, by the return 
of the Stuarts, was reduced to a nullity." The words are Michel- 
et's, * and, though severe, they are just. They are, in fact, not 
severe enough ; for when England, under her restored dynasty of 
fithe Stuarts, did not take any part in European politics, her con- 
duct, or rather her king's conduct, was almost invariably wicked 
and dishonorable. 

Bolingbroke rightly says that, previous to the revolution of 
1688, during the whole progress that Louis XIV. made toward ac- 
quiring such exhorbitant power as gave him well-grounded hopes 
of acquiring at last to his family the Spanish monarchy,England had 
been either an idle spectator of what passed on the Continent, or a 
faint and uncertain ally against France, or a warm and sure ally 
on her side, or a partial mediator between her and the powers con- 
federated together in their common defense. But though the 
court of England submitted to abet the usurpations of France, and 
the King of England stooped to be her pensioner, the crime was 
not national. On the contrary, the nation cried out loudly against 
it even while it was committing, f 

Holland alone, of all the European powers, opposed from the 
very beginning a steady and uniform resistance to the ambition 
and power of the French king. , It was against Holland that the 
fiercest attacks of France were made, and, though often apparently 
on the eve of complete success, they were always ultimately 
baffled by the stubborn bravery of the Dutch, and the heroism of 
their great leader, William of Orange. "When he became King of 
England, the power of this country was thrown decidedly into the 
scale against France ; but though the contest was thus rendered 
less unequal, though William acted throughout "with invincible 
firmness, like a patriot andahero,"| France had the general supe- 
riority in every war and in every treaty ; and the commencemens 
of the eighteenth century found the last league against her dissolv- 
ed, all the forces of the confederates against her dispersed, and 
many disbanded ; while France continued armed, with her veteran 
forces by sea and land increased, and held in readiness to act. on 
all sides, whenever the opportunity should arise for seizing on the 
great prizes which, from the very beginning of his reign, had 
never been lost sight of by her king. 

* " Hiartoire Modeme," yoI. ii-, p. 106. t Bolinglaroke, vol. it, 4U 

t Ibid,,?. 404, 



BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 221 

This is not tlie p4ace for any narrative of the first essay wliich 
Louis XIV. made of his power in the war of 1667 ; of his rapid 
conquest of Flanders and Franche-Comte ; of the treaty of Aixla 
Chapelle, which "was nothing more than a composition between 
the bully and the bullied "* of his attack on Holland in 1672 ; of 
the districts and the barrier towis of the Spanish Netherlands, 
which were secured to him by the treaty of Nimeguen in 1678 ; of 
how, after this treaty, he "continued to vex both Spain and the 
empire, and to extend his conquests in the Low Countries and on 
the Ehine, both by the pen and the sword ; how he took Luxem- 
bourg by force, stole Strasburg, and bought Casal ; " of how the 
league of Augsburg was formed against him in 1686, and the elec- 
tion of William of Orange to the English throne in 1688 gave a new 
spirit to the opposition which France encountered ; of the long 
and checkered war that followed, in which the French armies 
were generally victorious on the Continent, though his fleet were 
beaten at La Hogue, and his dependent, James II,, was defeated 
at the Boyne ; or of the treaty of Ryswick, which left France in 
possession of Koussillon, Artois, and Strasburg, which gave Europe 
no security against her claims on the Spanish succession, and 
which Louis regarded as a mere truce, to gain breathing-time be- 
fore a more decisive struggle. It must be borne in mind that the 
ambition of Louis in these wars was two-fold. It had its immediate 
and its ulterior objects. Its immediate object was to conquer and 
annex to France the neighboring provinces and towns that were 
most convenient for the increase of her strength, but the ulterior 
object of Louis, from the time of his marriage to the Spanish In- 
fanta in 1659, was to acquire for the house of Bourbon the whole 
empire of Spain. A formal renunciation of all right to the Spanish 
succession had been made a,t the time of the marriage; but such 
renunciations were never of any practical effect, and many casu- 
ists and jurists of the age even held them to be intrinsically void. 
As the time passed on, and the prospect of Charles II. of Spain 
dying without lineal heirs became more and more certain, so did 
the claims of the house of Bourbon to the Spanish crown after his 
death become matters of urgent interest to French ambition on the 
one hand, and to the other powers of Europe on the other. At 
length the unhappy King of Spain died. By his will he appointed 
Philip, duke of Anjou, one of Louis XIV. 's grandsons, to succeed 
him on the throne of Spain, and strictly forbade any partition of 
his dominions. Louis well knew that a general European war 
would follow if he accepted for his house the crown thus bequeath- 
ed. But he had been preparing for this crisis throughout his 
reign. He sent his grandson into Spain as King Philip V. of that 
country, addressing to him, on his departure, the memorable words, 
" There are no longer any Pyrenees." 

* Ibid., p. 890. 



222 DECISIVE BATTLES, 

The empire, which now received the grandson of Louis as its 
king, comprised besides Spain itself, the strongest part of the 
Netherlands, Sardinia, Sicily, Naples, the principality of Milan, 
and other possessions in Italy, the Philippines and Manilla Islands 
in Asia, and in the JS'ew A\ orld besides California and Florida, 
the greatest part of Central and of Southern America. Philip was 
well received in Madrid, where he was crowned as King Philip V. 
in the beginning of 1 701. The" distant portions of his empire sent 
m their adhesion; and the house of Bourbon, either by its French 
or Spanish troops, now had occupation both of the kingdom of 
Francis I., and of the fairest and amplest portions of the empira 
of the great rival of Francis, Charles V. 

Loud was the wrath of Austria, whose princes were the rival 
claimants of the Bourbons for the empire of Spain.. The indigna- 
tion of our "William III., though not equally loud, was far more 
deep and energetic. By his exertions, a league against the house 
of Boiirbon was formed between I^ngland, Holland, and the Austrian 
emperor, which was subsequently joined by the kings of Portu- 
gal and Prussia, by the Duke of Sa\oy, and by Denmark. Indeed, 
the alarm throughout Europe was now general and urgent. It 
was evident that Louis aimed at consolidating France and the 
Spanish dominions into one preponderating empire. At the mo- 
ment when Philip was departing to take possession of Spain, Louis 
had issued letters-patent in his favor to the eflect of preserving his 
rights to the throne of France. And Louis had himself obtained 
possession of the important frontier of the Spanish Netherlands 
with its numerous fortified cities, which were given up to his 
troops under pretense of securing them for the young King of 
Spain. Whether the formal union of the two crowns was likely to 
take place speedily or not, it was evident that the resources of the 
whole Spanish monarchy were now virtually at the French king's 
disposal. 

The peril that seemed to menace the empire, England, Holland, 
and the other independent powers is well summed up by Alison. 
"Spain had threatened the liberties of Europe in the end of the 
sixteenth century. France had all but overthrown them in the 
close of the seventeenth. What hope was there of ther^ being able 
to make head against them both, united under such a monarch as 
Louis XIV. ? "* 

Our knowledge of the decayed state into which the Spanish 
power had fallen ought not make us regard their alarms as chi- 
merical. Spain possessed enormous resources, and her strength 
was capable of being regenerated by a vigorous ruler. We should 
remember what Alberoni effected even after the close of the war of 
Succession. By what that minister did in a few years, we may 
judge what Louis XIV. would have done in restoring the mari- 

• •' Military History ol Ibe Duke ol Marlborcra^" p. S3. 



BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 223 

time and military power of that great country, which nature had 
so largely gifted, and which man's misgovemment has so de- 
based. 

The death of King William, on the 8th of March, 1702, at first 
seemed likely to paralyze the league against France; "for, not- 
withstanding the ill success with which he made war generally, 
he was looked upon as the sole center of union that could keep 
together the great confederacy then forming ; and how much the 
French feared from his life had appeared a few years before, in the 
extravagant and indecent joy they expressed on a false report of 
his death. A short time showed how vain the fears of some, and 
the hope of others were."* Queen Anne, within three days after 
her accession, went down to the House of Lords, and there declared 
her resolution to support the measures planned by her predeces- 
sor, who had been "the great support, not only of these kingdoms, 
but of all Europe." Anne was married to Prince George of Den- 
mark, and by her accession to the English throne the confederacy 
against Louis obtained the aid of the troops of Denmark ; but 
Anne's strong attachment to one of her female friends led to far 
more important advantages to the anti-Gallican confederacy than 
the acquisition of many armies, for it gave them MABLBdROUQH as 
their captain general. 

There are few successful commanders on whom France has shone 
80 unwillingly as upon John Churchill, duke of Marlborough, 
prince of the Holy Roman Empire, victor of Blenheim, Ramillies, 
Oudenarde, and Malplaquet, captor of Liege, Bonn, Limburg, Lan- 
dau, Ghent, Bruges, Antwerp, Oudenarde, Ostend, Menin, Den-^ 
dermonde, Ath, Lille, Tournay, Mons, Dounay, Aire, Bethune, and 
Bouchain ; who never fought a battle that he did not win, and 
never besieged a place that he did not take. Marlborough's own 
character is the cause of this. Military glory may, and too often does, 
dazzle both contemporaries and posterity, until the crimes as well 
as the vices of heroes are forgotten. But even a few stains of per- 
sonal meanness will dim a soldier's reputation irreparably ; and 
Marlborough's faults were of a peculiarly base and mean order. 
Our feelings toward historical personages are in this respect like 
our feelings toward private acquaintances. There are actions of 
that shabby nature, that however much they may be outweighed 
by a man's good deeds on a general estimate of his character, we 
never can feel any cordial liking for the person who has once been 
guilty of them. Thus, with respect to the Duke of Marlborough, 
it goes against our feelings to admire the man who owed his first 
advancement in life to the court favor which he and his family 
acquired through his sister becoming one of the mistresses of the 
Duke of York. It is repulsive to know that Marlborough laid the 
foundation of his wealth by being the paid lover of one of the fair 

♦ Bolmgbroke, vol. li., 445. 



224 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

and frail favorites of Charles II. * His treachery, and his ingrati- 
tude to his patron and benefactor, James 11., stand out in dark 
relief, even in that age of thankless perfidy. He was almost equally 
disloyal to his new master, King William ; and a more un-Eng- 
lish act cannot be recorded than Godolphin's and Marlborough's 
betrayal to the French court in 1694: of the expedition then designed 
against Brest, a piece of treachery which caused some hundreds of 
English soldiers and sailors to be helplessly slaughtered on the 
beach in Cameret Bay. 

It is, however, only in his military career that we have now to 
consider him; and there are very few generals, of either ancient or 
modern times, whose campaigns will bear a comparison with those 
of Marlborough, either for the masterly skill with which they Were 
planned, or for the bold yet prudent energy with which each plan 
was carried into execution. Marlborough had served while young 
under Turenne, and had obtained the marked praise of this great 
tactician. It would be difficult, indeed, to name a single quality 
which a general ought to have, and with which Marlborough was 
not eminently gifted. "What principally attracted the notice of 
contemporaries was the imperturbable evenness of his spirit. 
Voltaire* says of him. 

"He had, to a degree above all other generals of his time, that 
calm courage in the midst of tumult, that serenity of soul in dan- 
ger, which the English call a cool head [que les Anglais appellent 
cold head, tetefroide], and it was, perhaps, this quality, the greatest 
gift of nature for command, which formerly gave the English so 
many advantages over the French in the plains of Cressy, Poic- 
tiers, and Agincourt." 

King William's knowledge of Marlborough's high abilities, though 
he knew his faithlessness equally well, is said to have caused that 
sovereign in his last illness to recommend Marlborough to his 
successor as the fittest person to command her armies ; but Marl- 
borough's favor with the new queen, by means of his wife, was so 
high, that he was certain of obtaining the highest employment ; 
and the war against Louis opened to him a glorious theater for the 
display of those military talents, which he had previously only had 
an opportunity of exercising in a subordinate character, and on far 
less conspicuous scenes. 

He was not only made captain general of the English forces at 
home and abroad, but such was the authority of England in the 
council of the Grand Alliance, and Marlborough was so skilled in 
winning golden opinions from all whom he met with, that on his 
reaching the Hague, he was received with transports of joy by the 

* Marlt)orougli might plead tlie example of SyUa in tMs. Compare the 
anecdote in Plutarch ahout Sylla when young and Nicopolis, Hoiv?/i i^isv, 
evTtopov 8e yvvaiKoi, and the anecdote about Marlborough and the 
Duchess of Cleveland, told by Lord Chesterfield, and cited in Macaulay's 
" History," vol. i., p. 461. t " biecle de Louis Quatorze." 



BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 226 

Dutch, and it was agreed by the heads of that republic, and the 
minister of the emperor, that Marlborough should have the chief 
command of all the allied armies. 

It must, indeed, in justice to Marlborough, be borne in mind, 
that mere military skill was by no means all that was required of 
him in his arduous and invidious station. Had it not been for his 
unrivalled patience and sweetness of temper, and his marvelous 
ability in discerning the character of those whom he had to act 
with, his intuitive perception of those who were to be thoroughly 
trusted, and of those who were to be amused with the mere sem- 
blance of respect and confidenae ; had not Marlborough possessed 
and employed, while at the head of the allied armies, all the qual- 
ifications of a polished courtier and a great statesman, he never 
would have led the allied armies to the Danube. The confederacy 
would not have held together for a single year. His greatest 
political adversary, Bolingbroke, does him ample justice here. 
Bolingroke, after referring to the loss which King "William's death 
seemed to inflict on the cause of the allies, observes that, " By his 
death, the Duke of Marlborough was raised to the head of the army, 
and, indeed, of the confederacy; where he, a new, a private man, a 
subject, acquired by merit and by management a more deciding 
influence than high birth, confirmed authorit§^, and even the crown 
of Great Britain had given to King William. Not only all the parts 
of that vast machine, the Grand Alliance, were kept more compact 
and entire, but a more rapid and vigorous motion was given to the 
whole ; and, instead of languishing and disastrous campaigns, we 
saw every scene of the war full of action. All those wherein he 
appeared, and many of those wherein he was not then an actor, 
but abettor, however, of their action, were crowned with the most 
triumphant success. 

"I take with pleasure this opportunity of doing justice to that 
great man, whose faults I knew, whose virtues I admired ; and 
whose memory, as the greatest general and the greatest minister 
that our country, or perhaps any other, has produced, I honor."* 

War was formally declared by the allies against France on the 
•4th of May, 1702. The principal seenes of its operation were, 
at first, Flanders, the Upper Ehine, and North Italy. Marl- 
borough headed the allied troops in Flanders during the first two 
years of the war, and took some towns from the enemy, but noth- . 
ing decisis? e occurred. Nor did any actions of importance take 
place during this period between the rival armies in Italy. But 
in the center of that line from north to south, from the mouth of 
the Scheldt to the mouth of the Po, along which the war was car- 
ried on, the generals of Louis XIV. acquired advantages in 1703 
which, threatened one chief member of the Grand Alliance with 
utter destruction. France had obtained the important assistance 

* Bolingbroke, vol. 11., p. 445. 
D.B.— 8 



$26 DECISIVE BAT1LE8, 

of Bavaria as her confederate in the war. The elector of this pow- 
erful German state made himself master of the strong fortress of 
Ulm, and opened a communication with the French armies on tha 
Upper Rhine. By this junction, the troops of Louis were enabled 
to assail the emperor in the very heart of Germany. lu the autumn 
of the year 1703, the combined armies of the elector and French 
king completely defeated the Imperialists in Eavaiia : and in the 
following winter they made themselves masters of the important 
cities of Augsburg and Passau, Meanwhile the French army of 
the Upper Khine and Moselle had beaten the allied armies opposed 
to them, and taken Treves with Landau. At the same time, the 
discontents in Hungary with Austria again broke out into open 
insurrection, so as to distract the attention and complete the terror 
of the emperor and his council at Vienna. 

Louis XIV. ordered the next campaign to be commenced by his 
troops on a scale of grandeur and with a boldness of enterprise 
such as even Napoleon's military schemes have seldom equalled. 
On the extreme left of the line of war, in the Netherlands, the 
French armies were to act only on the defensive. The fortresses 
in the hands of the French thers were so many and so strong, that 
no serious impression seemed likely to be made by the allies on the 
French frontier in that quarter during one campaign, and that one 
campaign was to give France such triumphs elsewhere as would 
(it was hoped) determine the war. Large detachments were there- 
fore to be made from the French force in Flanders, and they were 
to be led by Marshal Villeroy to the Moselle and Upper Rhine. The 
French army already in the neighborhood of those rivers was to 
march under Marshal Tallard through the Black Forest and join 
the Elector of Bavaria, and the French troojDS that were already 
with the elector under Marshal Marsin. Meanwhile the French 
army of Italy was to advance through the Tyrol into Austria, and 
the whole forces were to combine between the Danube and the Inn. 
A strong body of troops was to be dispatched into Hungary, to 
assist and organize theinsurgentsin that kingdom; and the French 
grand army of the Danube was then in collected and irresistible 
might to march upon Vienna, and dictate terms of peace to the 
emperor. High military genius was shown in the formation of 
this plan, but it was met and baffled by a genius higher still. 
, Marlborough had watched, with tlie deepest anxiety, the progress 
of the French arms on the Rhine and in Bavaria, and he saw the 
futility of carrying on a war of posts and sieges in Flanders, while 
death-blows to the emj)ire were being dealt on the Danube. 
He resolved, therefore, to let the war in Flanders languish for a 
year, while he moved with all the disposable forces that he could 
collect to the central scenes of decisive operations. Such a march 
was in itself difficult; but Marlborough had. in the first instance, 
to overcome the still greater difficulty of obtainini.cthe cousenrana 
cheerful co-operation of the allies, espftciiilW of the Dutt;h- ivhosQ 



BATTLE Oi BLENHEIM, 227 

frontier it was proposed thus to deprive of the larger part of the 
force which had hitherto been its protection: Fortunately, among 
the many slothful, the many foolish, the many timid, and the not 
few treacherous rulers, statesmen, and generals of different nations 
with whom he had to deal, there were two men, eminent both in 
ability and integrity, who entered fully into MarllDorough's projects, 
and who, from the stations which they occupied, were enabled 
materially to forward them. One of these was the Dutch statesman 
Heinsius, who had been the cordial supporter of King William, 
Rnd who now, with equal zeal and good faith, supported Marl- 
borough in the councils of the allies; the other was the celebrated 
general, Prince Eugene, whom the Austrian cabinet had recalled 
from the Italian frontier to take the command of one of the emperor's 
armies in Germany. To these two great men, and a few more, Marl- 
borough communicated his plan freely and unreservedly; but to 
the general councils of his allies he only disclosed part of his dar- 
ing scheme. He proposed to the Dutch that he should march from 
Flanders to the Upper Ehine and Moselle with the British troops 
and part of the foreign auxiliaries, and commence vigorous opera- 
tions against the French armies in that quarter, while General 
Auverquerque, with the Dutch and the remainder of the auxiliaries, 
maintained a defensive war in the Netherlands. Having with diffi- 
culty obtained the consent of the Dutch to this portion of his pro- 
ject, he exercised the same diplomatic zeal, with the same success, 
in urging the King of Prussia and other princes of the empire, to 
increase the number of the troops which they supplied, and to post 
them in places convenient for his own intended movements. 

Marlborough commenced his celebrated march on the 19th of 
May. The army which he was to lead had been assembled by his 
brother, General Churchill, at Bedburg, not far from Maestricht, 
ontheMeuse: it included sixteen thousand English troops, and 
consisted of fifty-one battalions of foot, and ninety-two squadrons 
of horse. Marlborough was to collect and join with him on his 
march the troops of Prussia, Luneburg, and Hesse, quartered on 
the Khine, and eleven Dutch battalions that were stationed at Both- 
weil.* He had only marched a single day, when the series of inter- 
ruptions, complaints, and requisitions from the other leaders of the 
allies began, to which he seemed subjected throughout his enterprise^ 
and which would have caused its failure in the hands of any one not 
gifted with the firmness and the exquisite temper of Marl- 
borough. One specimen of these annoyances and of Marlborough's 
mode of dealing with them may suffice. On his encamping at 
Kupen on the 20th, he recieved an express from Auverquerque 
pressing him to halt, because Villeroy, who commanded the 
French army in Flanders, had quitted the lines which he had been 
occupying, and crossed the Meuse at Namur with thirty-six battal- 

* Coxe's " Liie o£ MarllDorougli." 



228 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

ions and forty*five squadrons, and was threatening the town of 
Huys, At the same time Marlborough received letters from tho 
Margrave of Baden and Count Wratislaw, who commanded the Im-. 
perialist forces at Stollhoflen, near the left bank of the Khine, 
stating that Tallard had made a movement as if intending to crosa 
the Khine, and urging him to hasten his march towards the lines 
of Stollhoffen. Marlborough was not diverted by these applica. 
tions from the prosecution of his grand design. Conscious tha^ 
the army of Villeroy would be too much reduced to nndertaka 
offensive operations, by the detachments which had already been 
made toward the Khine, and those which must follow his own 
march, he halted only a day to quiet the alarms of Auverquerque. 
To satisfy also the margrave, he ordered the troops of Hompesch 
and Bulow to draw toward Philipsburg, though with private injunc- 
tions not to proceed beyond a certain distance. He even exacted a 
promise to the same effect from Count Wratislaw, who at the junc- 
ture arrived at the camp to attend him during the whole campaign.* 

Marlborough reached the lihine at Coblentz, where he crossed that 
river, and then marched along its left bank to Broubach and Mentz. 
His march, though rapid, was admirably conducted, so as to save 
the troops from all unnecessary fatigue; ample supplies of provi- 
sions were ready, and the most perfect discipline was maintained. 
By degrees Marlborough obtained more re-enforcements from the 
Dutch and the other confederates, and he also was left more at liberty 
by them to follow his own course. Indeed before even a blow was 
struck, his enterprise had paralyzed the enemy , and had material- 
ly released Austria from the pressure of the war. Villeroy, with 
his detachments from the French Flemish army, was completely 
bewildered by Marlboro'ugh's movements; and, unable to divine 
where it was that the English general meant to strike his blow, 
wasted away the early part of the summer between Flanders and 
the Moselle without effecting any thing, f 

Marshal Tallard who commanded forty-five thousand French at 
Strasburg, and who had been destined by Louis to march early in 
the year into Bavaria, thought that Marlborough's march along 
the Ehine was preliminary to an attack upon Alsace; and the Mar- 
shal therefore kept his forty -five thousand men back in order to 
Erotect France in that quarter. Marlborough skilfully encouraged 
is apprehensions, by causing a bridge toAConstructed across the 
Bhine at Philipsburg, and by making the JLandgrave of Hesse ad- 
vance his artillery at Manheim, as if for a siege at Landau. Mean- 
while the Elector of Bavaria and Marshal Marsin, suspecting that 
Marlborough's design might be what it really proved to be, forebode 

* Coxe. 

t '• INiarslial Villeroy," says Voltaire, "who had wished to follow Marl- 
tiorough en his flr£t marches, suddenly lost sight of him altogetl^er, and only 
learned where he really was on hearing of his victory at Donawert." Hieciti 
de Louis XI V. 



BATTLE OF BLElsHEIM. 229 

to press Tipon the Austrians opposed to them, or to send troops inte 
Hungary; and they kept back so as to secure their communications 
with France. Thus, when Marlborough, at the beginning of June, 
left the Rhine and marched for the Danube, the numerous hostile 
armies were uncombined, and unable to check him. 

"With such skill and science had this enterprise been concerted, 
•that at the Very moment when it assumed a specific direction, 
the enemy was no longer enabled to render it abortive. As the 
march was now to be bent toward the Danube, notice was given for 
the Prussians, Palatines, and Hessians, who were stationed on the 
Ehine, to order their march so as to join the main body in its prog- 
ress. At the same time, directions were sent to accelerate the 
advance of the Danish auxiliaries, who were marching from the 
Netherlands."* 

Crossing the River Neckar, Marlborough marched in a southeast- 
ern direction to Mundelshene, where he had his first personal 
interview with Prince Eugene, who was destined to be his colleague 
on so many glorious fields. Thence, through a difficult and dan- 
gerous country, Marlborough continued his march against the Ba- 
varians, whom he encountered on the 2d of July on the heights of 
the Schullenberg, near Donauwert. Marlborough stormed their 
intrenched camp, crossed the Danube, took several strong places 
in Bavaria, and made himself completely master of the elector's 
dominions, except the fortified cities of Munich and Augsburg. 
But the elector's army, though defeated at Donauwert, was still 
numerous and strong: and at last Marshal Tallard, when thorough- 
ly apprised of the real nature of Marlborough's movements, crossed 
the Rhine; and being suffered, through the supineness of the Ger- 
man General at Stollhoffen, to march without loss through the 
Black Forest, he united his powerful army at Biberbach, near Augs- 
burg, with that of the elector and the French troops under Marshal 
Marsin, who had previously been co-operating with the Bavarians^ 

On the other hand, Marlborough recrossed the Danube, and on 
the 11th of August united his army with the Imperialist forces 
under Prince Eugene. The combined armies occupied a position 
near Hochstadt, a little higher up the left bank of the Danube 
than Donauwert, the scene of Marlborough's recent victory, and 
almost exactly on the ground where Marshal Villars and the 
elector had defeated an Austrian army in the preceding year. 
The French marshals and the elector were now in position a 
little farther to the east, between Blenheim and Lutzingen, and 
with the little stream of the Nebel between them and the troops 
of Marlborough and Eugene. The Gallo-Bavarian army con- 
sisted of about sixty thousand men, and they had sixty-one pieces 
of artillery. The army of the allies was about fifty-six thousand 
strong with fifty-two guns. 

- _ __ 111^ 

* Coxe. 



S30 DECrSIVE BATTLES. 

Although the French nrniy of Italy had been r.nt\ble to pene. 
tnito into Austria, and iiltho\igh the mustorly strategy of Marl- 
borough had hitherto warded otf the destinaetion with which the 
Ciiuse of the allies seemed menaced at the beginning of the cam- 
paign, the peril was still most serious. It was absolutely neces- 
sary for Marlborough to attack the enemy before Villeroy should 
be roxised into action. There was nothing to stop that general 
and his army from marching into Franconia, whence the allies 
drew their jnincipal supplies; and besides thus distressing them, 
be might, by marching on and joining his army to those of Tal- 
lard and the elector, form a mass which would overwhelm the 
force under ^larlborough and Eugene. On tlie other hand, the 
chances of a battle seemed perilous, and the fatal consequences 
of a defeat Mere certain. The disadvantage of the allies in point 
of number was not very great, but still it was not to be disregarded; 
and the advantage which the enemy seemed to have in the cimi- 
position of their troops was striking. Tallard and Marsin had 
torty-tive thousand Frenchmen uniier them, all veterans and all 
trained to act together; the elector's own troops also were good 
soldiers. ^larlborough, like "Weilington at ^Vaterloo, headed an 
army, of which the larger proportion consisted not of English, but 
ot men of many dil^erent nations and many dilierent lang\aages. 
He was also obliged to be the assailant in the action, and thus to 
expose his troops to comjiaratively heavy loss at the commence- 
ment of the battle, while the enemy would light under the protec- 
tion of the villages and lines which they were -actively engaged in 
strengthening. The consecpiences of a defeat of the confederated 
army nnist have broken up the Grand Alliance, and realized the 
proudest hopes of the Fronch king Mr. Alison, in his admirable 
military history of the Puke of Marlborough, has truly stated 
the effects which would have taken phu'c if France had been suc- 
cessful in the war; and when the position of the confederates at 
the time when Blenheim was fought is remembered — when we 
recollect the exhaustion of Aiistria, the menacing insurrection of 
Hungary, the feuds and jealousies of the German princes, the 
strength and activity of the eTacobite party in England, and the 
imbecility of nearly all the Dutch statesmen of the time, and the 
W'eakness of Holland if deprived of her allies, we may adopt his 
words in speculating on what would have ensued if France had 
been victorious in the battle, and "if a power, animated by the 
ambition, guided by the fimaticism, and directed by the ability of 
tbat of Loiiis XIV., had gained the ascendency in Europe. Beyond 
all question, a universal despotic dominion would have been 
established over the bodies, a cruel spiritual thraldom over the 
minds of men. France and Spain united under Bourbon princes 
and in a close family alliance— the empire Charlemagne with that 
of Charles V. — the power which revoked the Edict of Nantes and 
perpetrated the massacre of St. Bartholomew, with that which ban- 



BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 231 

ished the Moriscoes and established the Inquisition, wonld have 
proved irresistible, and beyond example destructive to the best 
interests of mankind. 

"The Protestants might have been driven, like the pagan hea- 
thens of old by the son of Pepin, beyond the Elbe; the Stuart race, 
and with them liomish ascendency, might have been re-establish- 
ed in England; the fire lighted by Latimer and liidley might 
have been extinguished in blood; and the energy breathed by 
religious freedom into the Anglo-Saxon race might have ex- 
pired. The destinies of the wgrld would have been changed. 
Europe, instead of a variety of independent states, whose mutual 
hostility kept alive courage, while their national rivalry simu- 
lated talent, would have sunk into the slumber attendant on uni- 
versal dominion. The colonial empire of England would have 
withered away and perished, as that of Spain has done in the grasp 
of the Inquisition. The Anglo-Saxon race would have been arrest- 
ed in its mission to overspread the earth and subdue it. The 
centralized despotism of the Roman empire would have been re- 
newed on Continental Europe; the chains of liomish tyranny, 
and with them the general infidelity of France before the Ptevolu- 
tion, would have extinguished or perverted thought in the British 
Islands."* 

Marlborough's words at the council of war, when a battle was 
resolved on, are remarkable, and they deserve recording. We 
know them on the authority of his chaplain, Mr. (afterward Bishop] 
Hare, who accompanied him throughout the campaign, and in 
whose journal the biographers of Marlborough have found many 
of their best materials. Marlborough's Mords to the ofiicers who 
remonstrated with him on the seeming temerity of attacking the 
enemy in their jjosition were, "I know the danger, yet a laattle 
is absolutely necessary, and I rely on the bravery and discipline 
of the troops, which will make amends for our disadvantages." 
In the evening orders were issued for a general engagement, and 
received by the army with an alacrity which justified his confi- 
dence. 

The French and Bavarians were posted behind a little stream 
called the Nebel, which runs almost from north to south into the 
Danube immediately in front of the village of Blenheim. The 
Nebel flows along a little valley, and the French occupied the 
rising ground to the west of it. The village of Blenheim was t'Jie 
extreme right of their position, and the village of Lutzingen, about 
three miles north of Blenheim, formed their left. Beyond Lutzingen 
are the rugged high grounds of the Godd Berg and Eich Berg; 
on the skills of which some detachments were posted, so as to 
secure the Gallo-Bavarian position from being turned on the left 
flank. The Danube secured their right flank; and it was only in 

* AUson's " Lile of Marlborotrgli," p. 248. 



J32 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

front that they could be nttackod. The villages of Blenheim and 
Lutzingen had b<H^n strongly palisaded and intrenched. Mar- 
shal Tallard, who held the chief command, took his station at 
Blenheim; the elector and Marshal Marsin commanded on the 
left. Tallard garrisoned Blenheim with twenty-six battalions of 
French infantry and twelve squadrons of French cavalry. JMarsin 
and the elector had twenty-two battalions of infantry and thirty- 
six squadrons of cavalry in front of the village of Lutzingen. The 
center was occupied by fourteen battalions of infantry, including 
the celebrated Irish brigade. These were posted in the little 
hamlet of Oberglau, which lies somewhat nearer to Lutzingen than 
to Blenheim. Eighty squadrons of cavalry and seven battalions 
of foot were ranged between Oberglau and Blenheim. Th\is the 
French position was very stong at each extremity, but was com- 
paratively weak in the center. Tallard seems to have relied on 
the swampy state of the part of the valley that reaches from below 
Oberglau to Blenheim for preventing any serious attack on this 
part of his line. 

The army of the allies was formed into two great divisions, the 
largest being commanded by the duke in person, and being des- 
tined to act against Tallard. while Prince Eugene led the other 
division, which consisted chietiy of cavalry, and was intended to 
oppose the enemy under Marsin and the elector . As they approach- 
ed the enemy, M»rlboro\igli's troops formed the left tvnd the center, 
while Eugene's formed the right of the entire army. Early in the 
morning of the 13th of August, the allies left their own camp and 
marched toward the enemy. A thick haze covered the ground, 
and it was not until the allied right and center had advanced 
nearly within cannon shot of the enemy that Tallard was aware of 
their approach. He made his preparations with what haste he 
coiild, and about eight o'clock a heavy tire of artillery wsxs opened 
from the French right on the advancing left wing of the British. 
Marlboroiigh ordered up some of his batteries to reply to it, and 
while the "columns that M'cre to form the allied left and center 
deployed, and took up their proper stations in the line, a warm 
ctxnnonade was kept up by the guns on both sides. 

The ground which Eugene s columns had to traverse was pecu- 
liarly difficult, especially for the passage of the artillery, and it 
was nearly mid-day before he could get his troops into line 
opposite to Lutzingen. Diiring this interval, Marlborough order- 
ed divine service to be performed by the chaplains at the head of 
each regiment, and then rode along the lines, and found both offi- 
cers and men in the highest spirits, and waiting impatientlj' for 
the signal for the attack. At length an aide-de-camp galloped up 
from the right with the welcome news that Eugene was ready. 
Marlborough instantly sent Lord Cutts, with a str-ong brigade of 
infantry, to assault the village of Blenheim, while he himself 
led the main body down the eastward slope of the vrdley of 



BATTLE OF BLENUEHL 833 

the Nobel, and prepared to effect the pafisage of the stream. 

The assault on Blenheim, though bravely made, was repulsed 
■with severe loss; and Marlborough, finding how strongly that vil- 
lage was garrisoned, desisted from any farther attempts to carry it, 
and bent all his energies to breaking the enemy's line between 
Blenheim and Oberglau. Some temporary bridges had been yxa- 
pared, and planks and fascines had been collected; and Vjy the 
aid of these, and a little stone bridge which crossed the Isebel, 
near a hamlet called Unterglau, that lay in the center of the val- 
ley, Marlborough succeeded in getting several squadrons across 
the Nebel, though it was divided into several branches, and the 
ground between them was soft, and, in places, little better than a 
mere marsh. But the French artillery was not idle. The cannon 
balls jjlunged incessantly among the advancing squadrons of the 
allies, and bodies of French cavalry rode frequently down from the 
western ridge, to charge them before they had time to form on the 
firm ground. It was only by supporting his men by fresh troops, 
and by bringing up infantry, who checked the advance of the 
enemy's horse by their steady fire, that Marlborough was able to 
save his army in this quarter from a rej^ulse, which, succeeding 
the failure of the attack ujjon Blenheim, would probably have been 
latal to the allies. By degrees, his cavalry struggled over the 
blood-stained streams; the infantry were also now brought across, 
8o as td keep in check the French troops who held Blenheim, and 
who, when no longer assailed in front, had begun to attack the 
allies on their left with considerable effect. 

Marlborough had thus at last succeeded in drawing up the 
whole left wing of his army beyond the Nebel, and was about to 
press forward with it, when he was called away to another part of 
the field by a disaster that had befallen his center. The Prince of 
Holstein Beck had, with eleven Hanoverian battalions, passed the 
Nebel opposite to Oberglau, when he was charged and utterly routed 
by the Irish brigade which held that village. The Irish drove the 
Hanoverians back with heavy slaughter, broke comj)letely through 
the line of the allies, and nearly achieved a success as brilliant as 
that which the same brigade afterward gained at Fontenoy. But 
at Blenheim their ardor in pursuit led them too far. Marlborough 
came up in jjerson, and dashed in upon the exposed flank of the 
brigade v/ith some squadrons of British cavalry. The Irish reeled 
back, and as they strove to regain the height of Oberglau, their 
column was raked through and through by the .fire of three bat- 
talions of the allies, which Marlborough had summoned up from 
the reserve. ^ Marlborough having re-established the order and 
communications of the allies in this quarter, now, as he returned 
to his own left wing, sent to learn how his colleague fared against 
Marsin and the elector, and to inform Eugene of his own success. 

Eugene had hitherto not been equally fortunate. He had made 
three attacks on the enemy opposed to him, and had been thrice 



234 DECISIVE BATTLES, 

clriTen back. It -vras only by bis o-wn desperate personal exertions, 
and the remarkable steadiness of the regiments of Prussian in- 
fantry which were under him, that he was to save his wing from 
being totally defeated. But it was on the southern part of tlie 
battle-field, on the ground which Marlborough had won beyond 
the Nebel with such difficulty, that the crisis of the battle was to 
be decided. 

Like Hannibal, Marlborough relied principally on his cavalry 
for achieving his decisive successes, and it w^as by his cavalry that 
Blenheim, the greatest of his victories, was won. The battle had 
lasted till five m the afternoon. Marlborough had now eight 
thousand horsemen drawn up in two lines, and in the most per- 
fect order for a general altack on the enemy's line along the space 
between Blenheim and Oberglau. The infantry was drawn up in 
battalions in their rear, so as to support them if repulsed, and to 
keep in check the large masses of the French that still occupied 
the village of Blenheim. Tallard now interlaced his squadrons of 
cavalry with battalions of infantry ; and Marlborough, by a cor- 
responding movement, brought several regiments of infantry, and 
some pieces of artillery, to his front line at intervals between the 
bodies of horse. A little after five, Marlborough commenced the 
decisive movement, and the allied cavalry, strengthened and sup- 
ported by foot and guns, advanced slowly from the lower ground 
near the Nebel up the slope to where the French cavairy, ten 
thousand strong, awaited them. On riding over the summit of 
the acclivity, the allies were received with so hot a fire from the 
French artillery and small arms, that at first the cavalry recoiled, 
but without abandoning the high ground. The guns and the in- 
fantrj'^ which they had brought with them maintained the contest 
with spirit and effect. The French fire seemed to slacken. Marl- 
borough instantly ordered a charge along the line. The allied 
cavalry galloped forward at the enemy's squadrons, and the hearts 
of the French horsemen failed them. Discharging their carbines 
at an idle distance, they wheeled round and spurred from the 
field, leaving the nine infantry battalions of their comrades to be 
ridden down by the torrent of the allied cavalry. The battle was 
now won. Tallard and Marsin, severed from each other, thought 
only of retreat. Tallard drew up the squadrons of horse that he 
had left, in a line extended toward Blenheim, and sent orders to 
the infantry in that village to leave it and join him without delay. 
But, long ere his orders could be obeyed, the conquering squad- 
rons of Marlborough had wheeled to the left and thundered down 
on the feeble array of the French marshal. Part of the force which 
Tallard had drawn up for this last efiort was driven into the Dan- 
ube ; part fled with their general to the village of Sonderheim, 
where they were soon surrounded by the victorious allies, and 
compelled to surrender. Meanwhile, Eugene had renewed his at- 
tack upon the Gallo-Bavarian left, and Marsin, finding his go1« 



SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. S.-^S 

league utterly routed, and his own right flank uncov<Ted, pro- 
pared to retreat. He and the elector succeeded in withdrawing a 
considerable part of their troops in tolerable order to Dillingen ; 
but the large body of French who garrisoned Blenheim were left 
exposed to certain destruction. Marlborough speedily occupied 
all the outlets from the village with his victorious troops, and 
then, collecting his artillery round it, he commenced a cannonade 
that speedily would have destroyed Blenheim itself and all who 
were in it. After several gallant but unsuccessful attempts to cut 
their way through the allies, the French in Blenheim were at 
length compelled to surrender at discretion ; and twenty-four bat- 
talions and twelve squadrons, with all their officers, laid down 
their arms, and became the captives of Marlborough. 

"Such," says Voltaire, "was the celebrated battle which the 
French call the battle of Hochstet, the Germans Plentheim, and 
the English Blenheim. The conquerors had about five thousand 
killed and eight thousand wounded, the greater part being on the 
side of Prince Eugene. The French army was almost entirely 
destroyed : of sixty thousand men, so long victorious, there never 
reassembled more than twenty thousand effective. About twelve 
thousand killed, fourteen thousand prisoners, all the cannon, a 
prodigious number of colors and standards, all the tents and 
equipages, the general of the army, and one thousand two hun- 
dred officers of mark in the power of the conqueror, signalized 
that day ! " 

XJlm, Landau, Treves, and TraerbaGh surrendered to the allies 
before the close of the year. Bavaria submitted to the emperor, 
and the Hungarians laid down theii- arms. Germany was com- 
pletely delivered from France, and the military ascendency of 
the arms of the allies was completely established. Throughout 
the rest of the war Louis fought only in defense. Blenheim had 
dissipated forever his once proitd visions of almost universal con- 
quest. 



SxNOPSis OF Events :bijtwisen the BATTUts ov Blenheim, a.d. 

1704, AND THE Bai:1I,E OF PHLTOWA, A.D. 1709. 

• 

A.D. 1705. The Archduke Charles lands in Spain vith a small 
English army under Lord Peterborough, who takes Barcelona. 

1706. Marlborough's victory at Ramiliies. 

1707. The English aroiy in Spain ?'s defaulted at the batUt. «rf 
Almanza. 

1708. Marlborough'tJ victory at Oudenwda* 



236 DECISIVE BATTLES, 

CHAPTER Xn. 

THE BATTUE OF PULTOWA, A.», 1709. 

Dread Piiltowa's day 
Wlien lortune left the royal Swede, 
Around a slaughtered army lay. 

No more to combat and to hleed. 
The power and fortune of the war 
Had passed to the triumphant Czar. 

Bykon. 

Napoleon prophesied, at St. Helena, 'that all Europe wonld soon 
be either Cossack or Eepublican. Three yeairs ago, the fulfill- 
ment of the last of these alternatives appeared most probable. 
But the democratic movements of 184:8 were sternly repressed in 
1849. The absolute authority of a single ruler, and the austere 
stillness of martial law, are now paramount in the capitals of the 
Continent, which lately owned no sovereignty save the will of the 
multitude, and where that which the Democrat calls his sacred 
right of insurrection was so loudly asserted and so often fiercely 
enforced. Many causes have contributed to bring about this re- 
action, but the most effective and the most permanent have been 
Eussian influence and Eussian arms. Eussia is now the avowed 
and acknowledged champion of monarchy against democracy ; of 
constituted authority, however acquired, against revolution and 
change, for whatever purpose desired ; of the imperial supremacy 
of strong states over their weaker neighbors against all claims for 
political independence and all strivings for separate nationality. 
She had crushed the heroic Hungarians ; and Austria, for whom 
nominally she crushed them, is now one of her dependents. 
Whether the rumors of her being about to engage in fresh enter- 
prises be well or ill founded, it is certain that recent events must 
have fearfully augmented the power of the Muscovite empire, 
which, even previously had been the object of well-founded anx- 
iety to all Western Europe. 

It was truly stated, eleven years ago, that " the acquisitions 
which Eussia has made within the [then] last sixty-four years are 
equal in extent and importance to the whole empire she had in 
Europe before that time; that the acquisitions she has made from 
Sweden are greater than what i emains of that ancient kingdom ; 
that her acquisitions from Poland are as large as the whole Aus- 
trian empire ; that the territory she has wrested from Turkey in 
Europe is equal to the dominions of Prussia, exclusive of her 
Rhenish provinces ; and that her acquisitions from Turkey in 
Asia are equal in extent to all the smaller states of Germany, the 
Ehenish provinces of Prussia, Belgium, and Holland taken to- 
gether; that the country she has conquered from Persia is about the 
size of England ; that her acquisitions in Tartary have an ereA 



£A TTLE OF F UL TO WA. 23 7 

equal to Turkey in Europe, Greece, Italy, and Spain. In sixty- 
four years she has advanced her frontier eight hundred and fifty 
tniles toward Vienna, Berlin, Dresden, Munich, and Paris ; she 
has approached four hundred and fifty miles nearer to Constanti- 
nople ; she has possessed herself of the capital of Poland, and has 
advanced to within a few miles of the capital of Sweden, from 
which, when Peter the First mounted the throne, her frontier was 
distant three hundred miles. Since that time she has stretched 
herself forward about one thousand miles toward India, and the 
same distance toward the capital of Persia."* 

Such, at that period, had been the recent aggrandizement of 
Russia ; and the events of the last few years, by weakening and 
disuniting all her Eurojoean neighbors, have immeasurably aug- 
mented the relative suj^eriority of the Muscovite empire over all 
the other Continental powers. 

"With a population exceeding sixty millions, all implicitly obey- 
ing the impulse of a single ruling mind ; with a territorial area of 
six millions and a half of square miles ; with a standing army 
eight hundred thousand strong ; with powerful fleets on the Baltic 
and Black Seas ; with a skilful host of diplomatic agents planted 
in every court and among every tribe ; with the confidence which 
unexpected success creates, and the sagacity which long experi- 
ence fosters, Russia now grasps, with an armed right hand, the 
tangled thread of European politics, and issues her mandates as 
the arbitress of the movements of the age. Yet a century and a 
half have hardly elapsed since she was first recognized as a mem- 
ber of the drania of modern European history — previous to the 
battle of Pultowa, Russia played no part. Charles V. and his 
his great rival, our Elizabeth and her adversary Philip of Spain, 
the Guises, Sully, Richelieu, Cromwell, De Witt, William of Orange, 
and the other leading spirits of the sixteenth and seventeenth 
centuries, thought no more about the Muscovite Czar than we now 
think about the King of Timbuctoo. Even as late as 1735, Lord 
Bolingbroke, in his admirable " Letters of History," speaks of the 
history of the Muscovites as having no relation to the knowledge 
which a practical English statesman ought to acquire. f It maybe 
doubted whether a cabinet council often takes place now in our 
a oreign Ofi6.ce without Russia being uppermost in every English 
statesman's thoughts. 

But, though Russia remained thus long unheeded among her 
snows, there was a Northern power, the influence of which was 
acknowledged in the principal European quarrels, and whose good 
will was sedulously courted by many of the boldest chiefs and 
ablest counselors of the leading states. This was Sweden ; Swe- 

* " Progress of Russia In the East," p. 142. 

t " Bolingbroke's Works, vol. ii., p. 374. In the same page he observes 
ow Sweden had often turned her arms southward with prodigious effect. 



238 DECISIVE BATTLEi<, 

den, on whoso ruins Kussiti has risen, but whoso rtscendenoy over 
her seiui-barburous neii::hbor was complete, until the tat^U battle 
that now forms our sxibjeet. 

As early as 1542 France had sought the alliance of Sweden to 
aid her in her struggle against Charles V. And the name of Gus- 
tavus Adolphus is of itst^f suthcient to remind us that in the great 
contest for religious liberty, of which Germany was for thirty years 
the ai'ena, it was SAveien that rescued the falling cause of Protest- 
tuitism. and it was Sweden that principally dictated the rcmovlel- 
ing of the European state-system at the peace of Westphalia. 

Fivm the pivutl pre-eminence in whicli the valor oi the "Lion 
of the North. " and of Torstenston, Bannier.Wrangcl, and the other 
generals of Gustavus. g^^ided by the wisdom of Oxenstiern, had 
placed Sweden, the defeat of Charles XII. at Tultowa hurled her 
down at once and forever. Ilcr eftorts during the wars of the 
French Ixevolutiou to assume a leading part in European politics 
met with instant discomiiture, and almost provoked derision. But 
the Sweden whose scepter was bequeathed to Christisvnti, and 
whose allijuice Cromwell valued so highly, was a ditierent power 
to the Sweden of the present day. Finland, Ingrij\, Livoniji, 
Esthonia. Carelia, and other districts east of the Baltic, then wera 
Swedish provinces : luid the possession of Fomerania, Ivngen, and 
Bremen, made her an important member of the Gcrmjvaio empire. 
These territories ai*e now all retlt from her, and the most valuable 
of them foi-m the staple of her victorious rival's strength. Could 
she resume them —could the Sweden of llU8 be reconstructed, we 
should have a tirst-class Scandinavian state in the North, well 
qualitied to maintain the balance of power, and check the progress 
of Russia : whose power, indeed, never could have become formid- 
able to Eurv">pe save by Sweden becoming weak. 

The decisive triumph of Eussia over Sweden at Pultowa was 
therefore all-important to the world, on account of what it over- 
threw as well as for what it established ; jvnd it is the more deeply 
interesting, because it was not merely the crisis of a struggle be- 
tween two states, but it was a trial of strength between two great 
races of mankind. We must bear in mind, that while the Swedes, 
like the English, the Dutch, juid others, belong to the Germanic, 
r;\ce. the Bussians are a Sclavonic people. Nations of Sclavonian 
origin have long occupieil the greater part of Europe eastward of 
the Vistula, and the populations also of Bohemia, Croatia, Sorvia, 
Dalmatia, and other important regions westward of that river are 
Sclavonic. In the long and varied conflicts between them and 
the Germ:\nic nations that adjoin them, the Germanic race had, 
before Pultow:!, almost always maintained a siiperiority. With the 
single but important exception of Poland, no Sclavonic state had 
made any considerable ligure in history before the time when Peter 
tUe Great won his great victory over the Swedish king.* Whal 

**- iLe auisslte wan» mao*, perhaps, eutiUw Bohemia to be distingul&liea 



BA TTLE OF P UL TO WA. 23» 

EuBflia has done since that time we know and we feel. And some of 
the wiHcst and best m^n of our own age and nations, who have 
watchod with dof^pest care t?ie annals and the destinies of human- 
ity, have believed that the Sclavonic element in the poj^ulation of 
Europe has as yet only partially developed its powers ; that, while 
other races of mankind (our own, the Germanic, included) have 
exhausted their creative energies and completed their allotted 
achievements, the Sclavonic race has yet a great career to run ; and 
that the narrative of Sclavonic ascendency is the remaining i>age 
thai will conclude the history of the world.* 

Let it not be sux^ixjsed that in thus regarding the j)rimary tri- 
umph of Itussia over Sweden as a victory of the Sclavonic over the 
Germanic race, we are dealing with matters of mere ethnological 
pedantry, or with themes of mere speculative curiosity. The fact 
that Itussia is a Sclavonic empire is a fact of immense practical 
iniluence at the present moment. Half the inhabitants of the Aus- 
trian emjnre are Sclavonians, The population of the larger part 
of Turkey in Euroj^e is of the same race. Silesia, Posen, and other 
parts of the Prussian dominions are principally Sclavonic. And 
during late years an enthusiastic zeal for blending all Sclavonians 
into one great united Sclavonic emjjire has been growing up in 
these countries, which, however we may deride its principle, is 
not the less real and active, and of which liussia, as the head and 
the chamjjion of the Sclavonic race, knows well how to take her 
advantage. + 

* See Arnold's " Lectures on Modern History," p. .36-39. 

t " 'I'lie Idea ol Panslavjsra had a purely liUirary origin. It was started fey 
Kollar, a Protestant clerj^yrnan ot ttie Sclavonic conj^regatlon at Festli, in 
Hungary, who wished to establish a national literature by circulating all 
works, writtfin in the various Sclavonic dialects, through eveiT country 
where any or them are spoken. He suggested that ail the .Sclavonic literati 
should become acquaintf^d with the sister dialects, m tiiat a i:5ohemian, or 
other work, might be read on the shojes of the Adiiatlc as well as on the 
banks of the Volga, or any other place where a .Sclavonic lan^^ia^e was 
spoken; by which means an extensive literature might be created, tending 
to advance knowledge in all Sclavonic countries; and he supported his 
arguments by observing thai the dialects ot ancient Greece differed from 
each other like those of his own language, and yet that they formed only 
one Hffllenic literature. The idea of an intellectual uniori of all thoso 
nations naturally led to that of a political one; and the Sclavonians, seeing 
that tiielr numbers amounted t/j about one-third part of the wiioie popula- 
tion of Europe, and occupied more than half its territory, began to taa 
sensible that they might clahn for themselves a position to which they had 
not hithert/) aspired. 

" The opinion gained ground ; and the question now Is. whether the 
Sclavonians can form a nation independent of itussia, or whether they 
ought to rest satisfied in being part of one great race, with the most power- 
ful member of it as their chief. The latter, indeed, is gaining ground 
among them; and some Poles are disposed to attribute their sufferings to 
the abitrary will of the Ozar, without extending the blame to the Russians 
themselves. These beirtn to think thnt If x\\<-y cannot exist as Poles, the 
best tiling tx) be done is to rest satistif^l with a position in the Stdavonic 
empire, and they hope th'it w!i/>n oo'^e they givo uo the idea of restoring 
their country, Russia may grant some conce.ssloni; to their separate nationally. 



240 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

It is a singular fact that Bussia owes her very name to a band of 
Swedish invaders who conquered her a thousand years ago. They 
were soon absorbed in the Sclavonic population, and every trace 
of the Swedish character had disappeared in Eussia for many cen- 
turies before her invasion by Charles XII. She was long the 
victim and the slave of the Tartars ; and for many considerable 
periods of years the Poles held her in subjugation. Indeed, if 
we except the expeditions of some of the early Eussian chiefs 
against Bj'-zantium, and the reign of Ivan Vasilovitch, the history 
of Eussia before the time of Peter the Great is one long tale of 
suffering and degradation. 

But, whatever may have been the amount of national injuries 
that she sustained from Swede, from Tartar, or from Pole in the 
ages of her weakness, she has certainly retaliated ten-fold durmg 
.the century and a half of her strength. Her rapid transition at 
the commencement of that period from being the prey of every con- 
queror to being the conqueror of all with whom she comes into 
contact, to being the oppressor instead of the oppressed, is almost 
"Without a parallel in the history of nations. It was the work of a 
single ruler ; who, himself without education, promoted science 
and literature among barbaric millions ; who gave them fleets, 
commerce, arts, and arms ; who, at Puitowa, taught them to face 
and beat the previously invincible Swedes ; and who made stub- 
born valor and implicit subordination from that time forth the 
distinguishing characteristics of the Eussian soldiery, which had 
before his time been a mere disorderly and irresolute rabble. 

The career of Phillip of Macedon resembles most nearly that of 
the great Muscovite Czar ; but there is this important difference, 
that Philip had, while young, received in Southern Greece the best 
education in all matters of peace and war that the ablest philoso- 
phers and generals of the age could bestow. Peter was brought 
up among barbarians and in barbaric ignorance. He strove to 
remedy this, when a grown man, by leaving all the temptations to 
idleness and sensuality which his court offered, and by seeking 
instruction abroad. He labored with his own hands as a common 
artisan in Holland and England, that he might return and teach 
his subjects how ships, commerce, and civilization could be ac- 
quired. There is a degree of heroism here superior to any thing 
that we know of in the Macedonian king. But Phillip's consoli- 
dation of the long-disunited Macedonian empire ; his raising a 
people, which he found the scorn of their civilized Southern neigh- 
bors, to be their dread ; his organization of a brave and well- 
disciplined army instead of a disorderly militia ; his creation of a 
maritime force, and his systematic skill in acquiring and improv- 

" The same Idea has heen put forward by writers m the Russian interest; 

great efforts are making among otlier Sclavonic people to induce them to 

look upon Kussia as their future head, and she has already gamed con- 

Biderahle influence over the Sclavomc populations of Tui'key."— Wilkin- 

ON s Dalmatia. 



BA TTLE OF P UL TO WA, 241 

ing sea-ports and arsenals ; his patient tenacity of purpose under 
reverses ; his personal bravery, and even his proneness to coarse 
amusements and pleasures, all mark him out as the prototype of 
the imperial founder of the Eussian power. Injustice, however, 
to the ancient hero, it ought to be added, that we find in the his- 
tory of Philip no examples of that savage cruelty which deforms 
so grievously the character of Peter the Great. 

In considering the effects of the, overthrow which the Swedish 
arms sustained at Pultowa, and in speculating on the probable 
consequences that would have followed if the invaders had been 
successful, we must not only bear in mind the wretched state in 
which Peter found Kussia at his accession, compared with her 
present grandeur, but we must also keep in view the fact that, at 
the time when Pultowa was fought, his reforms were yet incom- 
plete, and his new institutions immature. He had broken up the 
Old Eussia ; and the New Eussia, which he ultimately created, 
was still in embryo. Had he been crushed at Pultowa, his im- 
mense labors would have been buried with him, and (to use the 
words of Voltaire) "the most extensive empire in the world would 
have relapsed into the chaos from which it had been so lately 
taken. " It is this fact that makes the repulse of Charles XII. the 
critical point in the fortunes of Eussia. The danger which she 
incurred a century afterward from her invasion by Napoleon was 
in reality far less than her peril when Charles attacked her, though 
the French emperor, as a military genius, was infinitely superior 
to the Swedish king, and led a host against her, compared with 
which the armies of Charles seem almost insignificant. But, as 
Fouchewell warned his imperial master, when he vainly endeav- 
ored to dissuade' him from his disastrous expedition against the 
empire of the Czars, the difference between the Eussia of 1812 
and the Eussia of 1709 was greater than the disparity between the 
power of Charles and the might of Napoleon. "If that heroic 
king," gaid Fouche, "had not, like your imperial majesty, half 
Europe in arms to Tjack him, neither had his opponent, the Czar 
Peter, 400,000 soldiers and 50,000 Cossacks." The historians who 
describe the state of the Muscovite empire when revolutionary and 
imperial France encountered it, narrate with truth and justice 
how, "at the epoch of the French Eevolution, this immense em- 
pire, comprehending nearly half of Europe and Asia within its 
dominions, inhabited by a patient and indomitable race, ever 
ready to exchange the luxury and adventure of the South for the 
hardships and monotony of the North, was daily becoming more 
formidable to the liberties of Europe. * * The Eussian infan- 
try had then long been celebrated for its immovable firmness. 
Her immense population, amounting then in Europe alone to 
nearly thirty-five millions, afforded an inexhaustible supply of 
men. Her soldiers, inured to heat and cold from their infancy, 
and actuated by a blind devotion to their Czar, united the steady 



242 DECTSlVk BATTLES. 

valor of the English to the impetuous energy of the French 
troops."* So, also, we read how the haughty aggressions of Bona- 
parte '• went to excite a national feeling from the banks of the 
Borysthenes to the wall of China, and to iinite against him the 
wild and uncivilized inhabitants of an extended empire, possessed 
by a love to their religion, tlieir government, and their country, 
and having a character of stern devotion, which he was incapable 
of estimating."t But the llustjia of 1700 had no such forces to op- 
pose to an assailant. Her whole population then was below six- 
teen millions ; and, what is far nnu-e important, this population 
had neither acquired military spirit nor strong nationality, nor 
was it united in loyal attachment to its ruler. 

Peter had wisely abolished the old regular troops of the empire, 
the Strelitzes ; but the forces which he had raised in their stead 
on a new and foreign plan, and principally officered with foreign- 
ers, had, before the Swedish invasion, given no proof that they 
could be relied on. In numerous encounters with the Swedes, 
Peter's soldiery had run like sheep before inferior numbers. Great 
discontent, also, had been excited among all classes of the com- 
munity by the arbitrary changes which their great emperor in- 
troduced, many of which clashed with the most cherished national 
prejudices of his subjects. A career of victory and prosperity had 
not yet raised Peter above the reach of that disatiection, nor had 
superstitious obedience to the Czar yet become the characteristic 
of the Muscovite mind. The victorious occupation of Moscow by 
Charles XII. would have quelled the Eussian nation as aftectually, 
as had been the case when Batoii Khan, and other ancient invad- 
ers, captured the capital of primitive Muscovy. How little such 
a triumph could effect toward subduing modern Eussia, the fate 
of Napoleon demonstrated at once and forever. 

The character of Charles XII. has been a favorite theme with 
historians, moralists, philosophers, and poets. Biit it is his mili- 
tary conduct during the campaign in Eussia that alone requires 
comment here. Napoleon, in the Memoirs dictated by him at 
St. Helena, has given us a sj'stematic criticism on that, among 
other celebrated campaigns, his own Eussian campaign included. 
He labors hard to prove that he himself observed all the true 
principles of oft'ensive war; and probably his censures on Charles's 
generalship were rat!ier highly colored, for the sake of making 
his own military skill stand out in more favorable relief. Yet 
after making all allowances, we must admit the force of Napoleon's 
strictures on Charles's tartics, and own that his judgment, though 
severe, is correct, when he pronounces that the Swedish king, un- 
like his great predecessor Gustavus, knew nothing of the art of 
war, and was nothing more than a brave and intrepid soldier. 
Such, however, was not the light in which Charles was regarded 

* AUson. t Scott's " Life of Napoleon." 



£A TTLE OF P UL TO W± 243 

by his contemporaries at the commencement of his Russian expe- 
dition. His numerous victories, his daring and resolute spirit, 
combined with the ancient renown of the Swedish arms, then 
filled all Europe with admiration and anxiety. As Johnson ex- 
presses it, his name was then one at which the world grew jjale. 
Even Louis le Grand earnestly solicited his assistance; and our 
own MarlVjorough, then in the full career of his victories, was 
specially sent hy the English court to the camp of Charles, to 
propitiate the hero of the North in favor of the cause of the allies, 
and to prevent the Swedish sword from being flung into the scale 
in the French king's favor. But Charles at that time was solely 
bent on dethroning the sovereign of Eussia, as he had already 
dethroned the sovereign of Poland, and all Europe fully believed 
that he would entirely crush the Czar, and dictate conditions of 
peace in the Kremlin. * Charles himself looked on success as a 
matter of certainty, and the romantic extravagance of his views 
was continually increasing. " One year, he thought, would suffice 
for the conquest of Kussia. The court of Kome was next to feel 
his vengeance, as the pope had dared to oppose the concession of 
religious liberty to the Silesian Protestants. No enterprise at 
that time appeared impossible to him. He had even dispatched 
several officers privately into Asia and Egypt, to take plans of the 
towns, and examine into the strength and resources of those 
countries." f 

Napoleon thus epitomizes the earlier operations of Charles's 
invasion of Russia : 

" That prince set out from his camp at Aldstadt, near Leipsic, 
in September, 1707, at the head of 45,000 men, and traversed 
Poland; 20,000 men, under Count Lewenhaupt, disembarked at 
Riga; and 15,000 were in Finland. He was therefore in a condi- 
tion to have brought together 80,000 of the best troops in the 
world. He left 10,000 men at Warsaw to guard King Stanislaus, 
and in January, 1708, arrived at Grodno, where he wintered. In 
June, he crossed the forest of Minsk, and presented himself before 
Borisov; forced the Russian army, which occupied the left bank 
of the Beresina; defeated 20,000 Russians who were strongly in- 
trenched behind marshes; passed the Borysthenes atMohilov, and 
vanquished a corps of 16,000 Muscovites near Smolensk© on ihe 
22d of September. He was now advanced to the confines of 
Lithuania, and was about to enter Russia Proper: the Czar, alarm- 
ed at his approach, made him proposals of peace. Up to this time 
all his movements were conformable to rule, and his communica- 
tions were well secured. He was master of Poh.nd and Riga, and 
only ten days' march distant from Moscow; and it is probable 

* Voltaire attests, Irom personal Inspection of the letters of several pub- 
lic ministers to tneir respective courts, that such was the general expecta- 
tion, t Crighton's " bcandinavia." 



2U DECISIVE BATTLES. 

that he "would have reached that capital, had he not quitted the 
high road, thither, and, directed his steps toward the Ukraine, in 
order to form a junction with Mazeppa, who brought him only 
6,U00 men. By this movement, his line of operations, beginning at 
Sweden, exposed his flank to Kussia for a distance of four hun- 
dred leagues, and he was unable to protect it, or to receive either 
re-enforcements or assistance." 

Napoleon severely censures this neglect of one of the great rules 
of war. He points out that Charles had not organized his war, 
like Hannibal, on the principle of relinquishing all communica- 
tions with home, keeping all his forces concentrated, and creating 
a base of operations in the conquering country. Such had been 
the bold system of the Carthaginian general ; but Charles acted on 
no such principle, inasmuch as he caused Lewenhaapt, one of his 
generals who commanded a considerable detachment, and escorted 
a most important convoy, to follow him at a distance of twelve 
days' march. By this dislocation of his forces he exposed Lewen- 
hauptto be overwhelmed separately by the full force of the enemy, 
and deprived the troops under his own command of the aid which 
that general's men and stores might have afforded at the very crisis 
of the campaign. 

The Czar had collected an army of about 100,000 effective men ; 
and though the Swedes, in the beginning of the invasion, were 
successful in every encounter, the Bussian troops were gradually 
acquiring discipline ; and Peter and his ofl&cers were learning gen- 
eralship from their victors, as the Thebans of old learned it from 
the Spartans. When Lewenhaupt, in the October of 1708, was 
striving to join Charles in the Ukraine, the Czar suddenly attacked 
him near the Borj^sthenes with an overwhelming force of 50,000 
Kussians. Lewenhaupt fought bravely for three days, and suc- 
ceeded in cutting his way through the enemy with about 4,000 of 
his men to where Charles awaited him near the Eiver Desna ; but 
Upward of 8,000 Swedes fell in these battles ; Lewenhaupt's cannon 
and ammunition were abandoned ; and the whole of his important 
convoy of provisions, on which Charles and his half-starved troops 
Were relying, fell into the enemy's hands. Charles was compelled 
to remain in the Ukraine during the winter ; but in the spring of 
1709 he moved forward toward Moscow, and invested the fortified 
town of Pultowa, on the River Vorksla ; a place where the Czar 
had stored up large supplies of provisions and military stores, and 
which commanded the passes leading toward Moscow. The pos- 
session of this place would have given Charles the means of sup- 
plying all the wants of his suffering army, and would also have 
furnished him with a secure base of operations for his advance 
against the Muscovite capital. The siege was therefore hotly 
pressed by the Swedes ; the garrison resisted obstinately : and the 
Czar, feeling the importance of saving the town, advanced in June 
to its relief.at the head of an army from fifty to sixty thousand strong. 



BA TTLE OF PITLTO WA. 245 

'Both sovereigns now prepared for the general action, which each 
«aw to be inevitable, and which each felt would be decisive of his 
own and of his country's destiny. The Czar, by some masterly 
paaneuvers, crossed the Yorksla, and posted his army on the same 
^ide of that river with the besiegers, but a little higher up. The 
Vorksla falls into the Borysthenes about fifteen leagues below Pul- 
towa, and the Czar arranged his forces in two lines, stretching 
/rom one river toward the other, so that if the Swedes attacked him 
And were repulsed, they would be driven backward into the acute 
angle formed by the two streams at their junction. He fortified 
these lines with several redoubts, lined with heavy artillery ; and 
his troops both horse and foot, were in the best possible condition, 
and amply provided with stores and ammunition. Charles's forces 
were about 24,000 strong. But not more than half of these were 
Swedes : so much had battle, famine, fatigue, and the deadly frosts 
of Eussia thinned the gallant bands which the Swedish king and 
Lewenhaupt had led to the Ukraine. The other 12,000 men, 
under Charles, were Cossacks and Wallachians, who had joined 
him in the country. On hearing that tbe Czar was about to attack 
him, he deemed that his dignity required that he himself should 
be the assailant ; and, leading his army out of their intrenched 
lines before the town, he advanced with them against the Russian 
redoubts. 

He had been severely wounded in the foot in a skirmish a few 
days before, and was borne in a litter along the ranks into the 
thick of the fight. Notwithstanding the fearful disparity of num- 
bers and disadvantage of position, the Swedes never showed their 
ancient valor more nobly than on that dreadful day. Nor do their 
Cossack and Wallachian allies seem to have been unworthy of 
fighting side by side with Charles's veterans. Two of the Russian 
redoubts were actually entered, and the Swedish infantry began to 
raise the cry of victory. But, on the other side, neither general 
nor soldiers flinched in their duty. The Russian cannonade and 
musketry were kept up ; fresh masses of defenders were poured 
into the fortifications, and at length the exhausted remnants of 
the Swedish columns recoiled from the blood-stained redoubts. 
Then the Czar led the infantry and cavalry of his first line outside 
the works, drew them up steadily and skilfully, and the action 
was renewed along the whole fronts of the two armies on the open 
ground. Each sovereign exposed his life freely in the world- 
winning battle, and on each side the troops fought obstinately and 
eagerly under their ruler's eye. It was not till two hours from the 
commencement of the action that, overpowered by numbers, the 
hitherto invincible Swedes gave way. All was then hopeless dis- 
order and irreparable rout. Driven downward to where the rivers 
join, the fugitive Swedes surrendered to their victorious pursuers, 
or perished in the waters of the Borysthenes. Only a few hundreds 
swam that rWer with their king and the Cossac^k; Mazeppa, and 



^46 i DECISIVE BATTLES. 

escapea into the Turkish territory. Nearly 10,000 lay killed and 
wounded in the redoubts and on the field of battle. 

In the joy of his heart the Czar exclaimed, when the strife was 
over, " That the son of the morning had fallen from heaven, and 
that the foundation of St. Petersburg at length stood firm." Even 
on that battle-field, near the Ukraine, the Russian emperor's first 
thoughts were of conquests and aggrandizement on the Baltic. 
The peace of Nystadt, which transferred the fairest provinces of 
Sweden to Eussia, ratified the judgment of battle which was pro- 
nounced at Pultowa. Attacks on Turkey and Persia by Eussia 
commenced almost directly after that victory. And though the 
Czar failed in his first attempts against the sultan, the successors 
of Peter have, one and all, carried on a uniformly aggressive and 
successive system of policy against Turkey, and against every other 
state, Asiatic as well as European, which has had the misfortune 
ol having Eussia for a neighbor. 

Orators and authors, who have discussed the progress of Eussia, 
have often alluded to the similitude between the modern extension 
of the Muscovite empire and the extension of the Eoman dominions 
in ancient times. But attention has scarcely been drawn to the 
closeness of the parallel between conquering Eussia and conquer- 
ing Eome, not only in the extent of conquests, but in the means 
of effec.ting conquest. The history of Eome during the century 
and a half which followed the close of the second Punic war, and 
during which her largest acquisitions of territory were made, should 
be minutely compared with the history of Eussia for the last one 
hundred and fifty years. The main points of similitude can only 
be indicated in these pages ; but they deserve the fullest consider- 
ation. Above all, the sixth chapter of Montesquieu's great treatise 
on Eome, ' ' De la conduite que les Eomains tinrent pour soumettre 
les peuples," should be carefully studied by every one who watches 
the career and policy of Eussia. The classic scholar will remem- 
ber the state-craft of the Eoman senate, which took care in every 
foreign war to appear in the character of a Protector. Thus Eome 
protected the ^tolians and the Greek cities against Macedon ; 
she protected Bithynia and other small Asiatic states against the 
Syrian kings ; she protected Numidia against Carthage -, and in 
numerous other instances assumed the same specious character. 
But "woe to the people whose liberty depends on the continued 
forbearance of an over-mighty protector."* Every state which 
Eome protected was ultimately subjugated and absorbed by her. 
And Eussia has been the protector of Poland — the protector of the 
Crimea — the protector of Courland — the protector of Georgia, 
Immeritia, Mingrelia, the Tcherkessian and Caucasian tribes, etc. 
She has first protected, and then appropriated them all. She pro- 
tects Moldavia and Wallachia. A few years ago she became the 

* MaUdLa's " History o£ Greece," 



SFNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 247 

protector of Turkey from Mehemet Ali ; and since the summer of 
18-49, she has made herself the protector of Austria. 

When the partisans of Kussia speak of the disinterestedness with 
which she withdrew her protecting troops from Constantinople and 
from Hungary, let us here also mark the ominous exactness of the 
parallel between her and Eome. While the ancient world yet con- 
tained a number of independent states, which might have made a 
formidable league against Rome if she had alarmed them by openly 
avowing her ambitious schemes, Eome's favorite policy was seem- 
ing disinterestedness and moderation. After her first war against 
Philijj, after that against Antiochus, and many others, victorious 
Rome promptly withdrew her troops from the territories which 
they occupied. She affected to employ her arms only for the good 
of others. But, when the favorable moment came, she always 
found a pretext for marching her legions back into each coveted 
district, and making it a Roman province. Fear, not moderation, 
is the only effective check on the ambition of such powers as 
ancient Rome and modern Russia. The amount of that fear de- 
pends on the amount of timely vigilance and energy which other 
states choose to employ against the common enemy of their freedom 
and national independence. 



Synopsis of Events between the Battle op Pultowa, a.d. 1709, 
AND THE Defeat of Buegoyne at Saratoga, a.d. 1777. 

A.D. 1713. Treaty of Utrecht. Philip is left by it in possession 
of the throne of Spain. But Naples, Milan, the Spanish territories 
on the Tuscan coast, the Spanish Netherlands, and some parts of 
the French Netherlands, are given to Austria. France cedes to 
England Hudson's Bay and Straits, the island of St. Christopher, 
Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland in America. Spain cedes to Eng- 
land Gibraltar and Minorca, which the English had taken during 
the war. The King of Prussia and the Duke of Savoy both obtain 
considerable additions of territory to their dominions. 

1715. Death of Queen Anne. The house of Hanover begins to 
reign in England. A rebellion in favor of the Stuarts is put down. 
Death of Louis XIV. 

1718. Charles XII. killed at the siege of Frederickshall. ' 

1725. Death of Peter the Great of Russia. 

1740. Frederic II. king of Prussia. He attacks the Austrian 
dominions, and conquers Silesia. 

1742. War between France and England. 

1743. Victory of the English at Dettingen. 

1745. Victory of the French atFontenoy. Rebellion in Scotland 
in favor of the house of Stuart ; finally quelled by the battle of 
Culloden in the next year, 



248 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

1748. Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 

1756-1763. The Seven Year's War, during whicli Prussia makes 
an heroic resistance against the armies of Austria, Russia, and 
France. England, under the administration of the elder Pitt 
(afterward Lord Chatham), takes a glorious part in the war in 
opposition to France and Spain. Wolfe wins the battle of Quebec, 
jand the English conquer Canada, Cape Breton, and St. John. Cliva 
begins his career of conquest in India. Cuba is taken by the 
English from Spain. 

1763. Treaty of Paris ; which leaves the power of Prussia in* 
creased, and its military reputation greatly exalted. 

"France, by the treaty of Paris, ceded to England Canada and 
the island of Cape Breton, with the islands and coasts of the gulf 
and *iver of St. Lawrence. The boundaries between the two 
nations in North America were fixed by a line drawn along the 
middle of the Mississippi from its source to its mouth. All on the 
left or eastern bank of that river wais given up to England, except 
the city of New Orleans, which was reserved to France ; as w^as 
also the liberty of the fisheries on a part of the coasts of Newfound- 
land and the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The islands of St. Petei- and 
Miquelon were given them as a shelter for their fishermen, but 
w^ithout permission to raise fortifications. The islands of Mar- 
tinico, Guadaloupe, Mariegalante, Desirada, and St. Lucia, were 
surrendered to France; while Grenada, the Grenadines, St. Vin- 
cent, Dominica, and Tobago, were ceded to England. This latter 
power retained her conquests on the Senegal, and restored to France 
the island of Gorea, on the coast of Africa. France was put in 
possession of the forts and factories which belonged to her in the 
East Indies, on the coasts of Coromandel, Orissa, Malabar, and 
Bengal, under ohe restriction of keeping up no military force in 
Bengal. 

"In Europe, France restored all the conquests she had made in 
Germany, as also the island of Minorca. England gave up to her 
Belleisle, on the coast of Brittany ; while Dunkirk was kept in the 
same condition as had been determined by the peace of Aix-la- 
Chapelle. The island of Cuba, with the Havana, were restored to 
ttie King of Spain, who, on his part, ceded to England Florida, 
with Port Augustine and the Bay of Pensacola. The King of 
Portugal was restored to the same state in which he had been 
before the war. The colony of St. Sacrament in America, which 
the Spaniards had conquered, was given back to him. 

" The peace of Paris, of which we have just now spoken, was the 
era of England's greatest prosperity. Her commerce and naviga- 
tion extended over all parts of the globe, and were supported by a 
naval force, so much the more imposing, as it was no longer coun- 
terbalanced by the maritime power of France, which had been 
almost annihilated in the preceding war. The immense territories 
"Which that peace had secured her, both in Alri«a and Americj^ 



VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 249 

opened np new channels for her industry ; and what deserves 
*Npecially to be remarked is, that she acquired at the same time 
vast and important possessions in the East Indies.* 



CHAPTER XnL 

▼ICTOBT OF THE AMERICANS OVER BURGOYKE AT SARATOGA, A.D. 1777. 

Westward tlie course of empire takes its way ; 

The flrst four acts already past, 
A fifth shall close the drama with the day, 

Time's noblest offspring is its last. 

Bishop Berkeley. 

Of the four great powers that now principally rule the political 
destinies of the world, France and England are the only two whose 
influence can be dated back beyond the last century and a half. 
The third great power, Eussia, was a feeble mass of barbarism be- 
fore the epoch of Peter the Great ; and the very existence of the 
fourth great power, as an independent nation, commenced within 
the memory of living men. By the fourth great power of the world 
I mean the mighty commonwealth of the Western Continent, which 
now commands the admiration of mankind. That homage is 
sometimes reluctantly given, and is sometimes accompanied with 
suspicion and ill will. But none can refuse it. All the physical 
essentials for national strength are undeniably to be found in the 
geographical position and amplitude of territory which the United 
States possess ; and their almost inexhaustible tracts of fertile but 
hitherto untouched soil, in their stately forests, in their moun- 
tain chains and their rivers, their beds of coal, and stores of 
metallic wealth, in their extensive sea-board along the waters of 
two oceans, and in their already numerous and rapidly-increasing 
population. And when we examine the character of this popula- 
tion, no one can look on the fearless energy, the sturdy determina- 
tion, the aptitude for local self-government, the versatile alacritj'-, 
and the unresting spirit of enterprise which characterize the Anglo- 
Americans, without feeling that here he beholds the true elements 
of progressive might. 

Three quarters of a century have not yet passed since the United 
States ceased to be mere dependencies of England. And even 
if we date their origin from the period when the first permanent 
European settlements out of which they grew were made on the 
western coast of the North Atlantic, the increase of their strength 
is unparalleled either in raj)idity or extent. 

* Kochs " RevoluUoaa of Europe." 



250 bECmVE BATTLED 

The ancient Roman boasted, with reason, of the growth of Rome 
from humble beginnings to the greatest magnitude which the world 
had then ever witnessed. But the citizen of the United States is 
still more justly entitled to claim this praise. In two centuries 
and a half his country has acquired ampler dominion than the 
Roman gained in ten. And even if we credit the legend of the 
band of shepherds and outlaws with which Romulus is said to have 
colonized the Seven Hills, we find not there so small a germ of 
future greatness as we find in the group of a hundred and five ill- 
chosen and disunited emigrants who founded Jamestown in 1G07, 
or in the scanty band of Pilgrim Fathers who, a few years later, 
moored their bark on the wild and rock-bound coast of the wilder- 
ness that was to become New England. The power of the United 
States is emphatically the "imperium quo neque ab exordio ullum 
fere minus, neque incrementis toto orbe amplius humana potest 
memoria recordari."* 

Nothing is more calculated to impress the mind with a sense of 
the rapidity with which the resources of the American republic 
advance, than the difficulty which the historical enquirer finds in 
ascertaining their precise amount. If he consults the most recent 
works, and those written by the ablest investigators of the subject, 
he finds in them admiring comments on the change which the last 
few years, before those books were written, had made ; but when 
he turns to apply the estimates in those books to the present mo- 
ment, he finds them wholly inadequate. Before a book on the 
subject of the United States has lost its novelty, those states have 
outgrown the descriptions which it contains. The celebrated work 
of the French statesman, De Tocqueville, appeared about fifteen 
years ago. In the passage which I am about to quote, it will be 
seen that he predicts the constant increase of the Anglo-American 
power, but he looks on the Rocky Mountains as their extreme 
western limit for many years to come. He had evidently no ex- 
pectation of himself seeing that power dominant along the Pacific 
as well as along the Atlantic coast. He says :+ 

•' The distance from Lake Superior to the Gulf of Mexico ex- 
tends from the 47th to the 30th degree of latitude, a distance of 
more than 1200 miles, as the bird flies. The frontier of the 
United States winds along the whole of this immense line, some- 
times falling within its limits, but more frequently extending far 
beyond it into the waste. It has been calculated that the whites 
advance every year a mean distance of seventeen miles along this 
vast boundary. Obstacles, such as an unproductive district, a 

* Eutroplus, lib. i., exordium. 

t The original French of these passages will t»e found in the chapter on 
*' Queues sent les chances de duree de runion Americaine— Quels dangers 
la menacent,'' in the third volimie of the first pazt of De I'ocqueville, and in 
the eouelusion of the first part. They are (with others) collected and traiii 
Iftted toy Mr. Alison, in his " Essays,'' vol. hi., p. 3I-4. 



VICTORY OF TBE AMEltlCANii AT SARATOGA, ^51 

lake, or an Indian nation unexpectedly encountered, are some- 
tiraes met with. The advancing column then halts for a while ; 
its two extremities fall back upon themselves, and as soon as they 
are reunited, they proceed onward. This gradual and continuous 
progress of the European race toward the Kocky Mountains has 
the solemnity of a providential event; it is like a deluge of men 
rising unabatedly, and daily driven onward by the hand of God. 

"Within this first line of conquering settlers towns are built and 
vast states founded. In 1790 there were only a few thousand pio- 
neers sprinkled along the valleys of the Mississippi; and at the 
present day, these valleys contain as many inhabitants as were to 
be found in the whole Union in 1790. Their population amounta 
to nearly lour millions. The City of Washington was founded in 
1800, in the very center of the Union; but such are the changes 
which have taken place, that it now stands at one of the ex- 
tremities; and the delegates of the most remote Western States 
are already obliged to perform a journey as long as that from 
Vienna to Paris. 

"It must not, then, be imagined that the impulse of the British 
race in the New World can be arrested . The dismemberment of 
the Union, and the hostilities which might ensue, the abolition of 
republican institutions, and the tyrannical government wiiicli 
might succeed it, may retard this impulse, but they cannot -^ve- 
vent it from ultimately fulfilling the destinies to which that race 
is reserved. No power upon earth can close upon the emigrants 
that fertile wilderness, which offers resources to all industry, and 
a refuge from all want. Future events, of whatever nature they 
may be, will not deprive the Americans of their climate or of their 
inland seas, of their great rivers or of their exuberant soil. Nor 
will bad laws, revolutions and anarchy be able to obliterate that love 
of prosperity and that spirit of enterprise which seem to be the dis- 
tinctive characteristics of their race, or to extinguish that knowl- 
edge which guides them on their way. 

"Thus, in the midst of the uncertain future, one event at least 
is sure. At a period which may be said to be near (for we are 
speaking of the life of a nation), the Anglo-Americans will alone 
cover the immense space contained between the Polar Regions and 
the Tropics, extending from the coast of the Atlantic to the shores 
of the Pacific Ocean; the territory which will probably be occu- 
pied by the Anglo-Americans at some future time may be com- 
puted to equal three quarters of Europe in extent. The climate of 
the Union is upon the whole preferable to that of Europe, and its 
natural advantages are not less great; it is therefore evident that 
its population will at some future time be proportionate to our 
own. Europe, divided as it is between so many different nations, 
and torn as it has been by incessant wars and the barbarous 
manners of the Middle Ages, has notwithstanding, attained a 
population of AlO inhabitants to the square league. What cauaw 



252 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

can prevent the United States from having as numerous a popul^v- 
tion in time ? 

"The time will therefore come when one hundred and fifty 
millions of men will be living in North America, equal in condi- 
tion, the progeny of one race, owing their origin to the same cause, 
and preserving the same civilization, the same language, the same 
religion, the same habits, the same manners, and imbued with the 
same opinions, propagated under the same forms. The rest is un- 
certain, but this is certain ; and it is a fact new to the world, a fact 
fniught with such portentous consequences as to baffle the efforts 
even of the imagination/' 

Let us turn from the French statesman writing in 1835, to an 
English statesman who is justly regarded as the highest authority 
in all statistical subjects, and who described the United States 
only five years ago. Macgregor* tells us — 

"The states which, on the ratification of independence, formed 
the American Eepublican Union, were thirteen, viz. : 

"Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Khode Island, 
New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Pennsjdvania, Vir- 
ginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. 

"The foregoing thirteen states {the whole inhabited territory of 
ichich, with the exception of a few srnccll settlements, loas confined to the 
region extending between the Alleghany Moitntains and the Atlantic) 
were those which existed at the period when they became an 
acknowledged separate and independent federal sovereign power. 
The thirteen stripes of the standard or flag of the United States 
continue to represent the original number. The stars have multi- 
plied to twenty-six, t according as the number of states have ^ 
increased. 

"The territory of the thirteen original states of the Union, 
including Maine and Vermont, comprehended a superficies of 
371,124: English square miles, that of the whole United Kingdom 
of Great Britain and Ireland, 120,354; that of France, including 
Corsica, 21-1,910; that of the Austrian empire, including Hungary 
and all the Imperial states, 257,540 English square miles. 

"The present superficies of the twenty-six constitutional states 
of the Anglo-American Union, and the District of Columbia, and 
territories of Florida, include 1,029,025 square miles; to which if 
we add the Northwest, or Wisconsin Territory, east of the Missis- 
sippi, and bound by Lake Superior on the north, and Michigan 
on the east, and occupying at least 100,000 square miles, and then 
add the great western region, not yet well defined territories, but 
at the most limited calculation comprehending 700,000 square 
miles, the whole unbroken in its vast length and breadth by for* 
eign nations, comprehends a portion of the earth's surface equal 
to 1,729,025 English, or 1,29G,770 geographical square miles." 

* Macgregor's " Commercial Statistics." vol. iii., p. 13, 
t Fresh stars have dawned since this was written. 



VIOTORT OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 253 

Irote, the American president truystated^^^^^ ^^^ 

treaty. The aj'l'^ °J ^.^.^^^ . ^j^^e the area of the remaining 

"eVeni'/aS^nd over wM 

dominion have ''•'ff ,,^j'^^tth ™s hdd VlCvrnteA States 

halt as large as all that ^.''i* ™\7 g^^l^ded from the esti- 

before their ^XSJl remain wfthin the limits of Texas, New 

mate, there ^>\' L s? WSsauare miles, or 545,012,720 acres, 
Mexico, and California, bol,'jJo square luiico, > . . . -i 

'"'^f.t'riUf of nSTs^tiV^^d of 400 miles; of the coast .of 
eluding the fetraits Of fl^^^'^J^^^^^^e whole extent on both the 



254 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

the length of the shore-line of coast, as estimated by the superin- 
tendent of the Coast Survey in his report, would be 33,063 miles." 

The importance of the power of the United States being then 
firmly planted along the Pacific applies not only to the New 
World, but to the Old. Opposite to San Francisco, on the coast 
of that ocean, lie the wealthy but decrepit empires of China and 
Japan. Numerous groups of islets stud the larger part of the in- 
tervening sea, and form convenient stepping-stones for the prog- 
ress of commerce or ambition. The intercourse of traffic between 
these ancient Asiatic monarchies and the young Anglo-American 
republic must be rapid and extensive. Any attempt of the Chi- 
nese or Japanese rulers to check it will only accelerate an armed 
collision. The American w411 either buy or force his way. Be- 
tween such populations as that of China and Japan on the one 
side, and that of the United States on the other — the former 
haughty, formal, and insolent ; the latter bold, intrusive, and un- 
scrupulous — causes of quarrel must sooner or later arise. The re- 
sults of such a quarrel cannot be doubted. America will scarcely 
imitate the forbearance shown by England at the end of our late 
war with the Celestial Empire ; and the conquests of China and 
Japan, by the fleets and armies of the United States, are events 
which many now living are likely to witness. Compared with the 
magnitude of such changes in the dominion of the Old World, the 
certain ascendency of the Anglo-Americans over Central and 
Southern America seems a matter of secondary importance. Well 
may we repeat De Tocqueville's words, that the growing power of 
this commonwealth is *'un fait entierement nouveau dans le 
monde, et dont I'imagination elle-memene sauraitsaisirlaportee." 

An Englishman may look, and ought to look, on the growing 
grandeur of the Americans with no small degree of generous sym- 
pathy and satisfaction. They, like ourselves, are members of the 
great Anglo-Saxon nation, "whose race and language are now 
overrunning the world from one end of it to the other."* And 
whatever differences of form of government may exist between us 
and them — whatever reminiscences of the days when, though 
brethren, we strove together, may rankle in the minds of us, the 
defeated party, we should cherish the bonds of common national- 
ity that still exist between us. We should remember, as the Athe- 
nians remembered of the Spartans at a season of jealousy and 
temptation, that our race is one, being of the same blood, speak- 
ing the same language, having an essential resemblance in our in- 
stitutions and usages, and worshipping in the temples of the same 
God.f All this may and should be borne in mind. And yet an 
Englishman can hardly watch the progress of America without 

* Arnold. 

t Eoy ojLiarjiiov rs xai 6j.i6yXoq66oVy nal Qeoov iSpv^ard re 
xoivd xai !^v6lai, oQea ra o}xor poita.. — Hekodotus, viii,, 144. 



VICTOR Y OF THE AMERICANS A T SARA TO GA. 255 

the regretful tliouglit tliat America once was English, and that, 
but for the folly of our rulers, she might be English still. It is 
true that the commerce between the two countries has largely and 
beneficially increased, but this is no proof that the increase would 
not have been still greater had the states remained integral por- 
tions of the same great empire. By giving a fair and just partici- 
pation in political rights, these, "the fairest possessions" of the 
British crown, might have been preserved to it. "This ancient 
and most noble monarchy "* would not have been dismembered ; 
nor should we see that which ought to be the right arm of our 
strength, now menacing us in every political crisis as the most 
formidable rival of our commercial and maritime ascendency. 

The war which rent away the North American colonies from 
England is, of all subjects in history, the most painful for an Eng- 
lishman to dwell on . It was commenced and carried on by the 
British ministry in iniquity and folly, and it was concluded in 
disaster and shame. But the contemplation of it cannot be evaded 
by the historian, however much it may be abhorred. Nor can 
any military event be said to have exercised more important in- 
fluence on the future fortunes of mankind than the complete de- 
feat of Burgoyne's expedition in 1777 ; a defeat which rescued the 
revolted colonists from certain subjection, and which, by induc- 
ing the courts of France and Spain to attack England in their be- 
half, insured the independence of the United States, and the for- 
mation of that trant'at] antic power which not only America, but 
both Europe and Asia now see and feel. 

Still, in procee&ing to describe this *' decisive battle of the 
world," a very brief recapitulation of the earlier events of the 
war may be sufficient ; nor shall I linger unnecessarily on a pain- 
ful theme. 

The five northern colonies of Massachusetts, Connecticut 
Ehode Island, New Hampshire, and Vermont, usually classed to- 
gether as the New England colonies, were the strongholds of the 
insurrection against the mother country. The feeling of resistance 
was less vehement and general in the central settlement of New 
York, and still less so in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and the other 
colonies of the South, although every where it was formidably 
strong. But it was among the descendants of the stern Puritans 
that the spirit of Cromwell and Vane breathed in all its fervor ; it 
was from the New Englanders that the first armed opposition to 
the British crown had been olTered ; and it was by them that the 
most stubborn determination to fight to the last, rather than waive 
a single right or privilege, bad been displayed. In 1775 they 
had succeeded in forcing the British troops to evacuate Boston ; 
and the events of 1777 had made New. York (which the Eoyalists 
captured in that year) the principal basis of operations for the 
armies of the mother country. 

* Lord Chatiiam. " 



256 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

A glance at the map will show that the Hudson River, which 
falls into the Atlantic at New York, runs down from the north at 
the back of the New England States , forming an angle of about 
lorty-hve degrees with the line of the coast of the Atlantic, along 
which the New England States are situate. Northward of the 
Hudson we see a small chain of lakes communicating with the 
Canadian frontier. It is necessary to attend closely to these geo- 
graphical points, in order to understand the plan of the opera- 
tions which the English attempted in 1777, and which the battle 
of Saratoga defeated. « 

The English had a considerable force in Canada, and in 1776 
had completely repulsed an attack which the Americans had 
made upon that province. The British ministry resolved to avail 
themselves, in the next year, of 'the advantage which the occupa- 
tion of Canada gave them, not merely for the purpose of defense, 
but for the purpose of striking a vigorous and crushing blow 
against the revolted colonies. With this view the army in Canada 
was largely re-enforced. Seven thousand veteran troops were sent 
out from England, with a corps of artillery abundantly supplied 
and led by select and experienced oJB&cers. Large quantities of 
military stores were also furnished for the equipment of the Cana- 
dian volunteers, who were expected to join the expedition. It 
was intended that the force thus collected should march south- 
ward by the line of the lakes, and thence along the banks of the 
Hudson River. The British army from New York (or a large de- 
tachment of it) was to make a simultaneous movement northward, 
up the line of the Hudson, and the two expeditions were to unite 
at Albany, a town on that river. By these operations, all communi- 
cation between the northern colonies and those of the center 
and south would be cut off. An irresistible force would be con- 
centrated, so as to crush all further opposition in New England : 
and when this was done, it was believed that the other colonies 
would speedily submit. The Americans had no troops in the 
field that seemed able to baflle these movements. Their principal 
army, under Washington, was occupied in watching over Penn- 
sylvania and the South. At any rate, it was believed that, in order 
to oppose the plan intended for the new campaign, the insurgents 
must risk a pitched battle, in which the superiority of the Royal- 
ists, in numbers, in discipline, and in - equipment, seemed to 
promise to the latter a crowning victory. Without question, the 
plan was ably formed ; and had the success of the execution been 
equal to the ingenuity of the design, the reconquest or submission 
of the thirteen United States must in all human probability have 
followed, and the independence which they proclaimed in 1776 
would have been extinguished before it existed a second year. No 
European power had as yet come forward to aid America. It is 
true that England was generally regarded with jealousy and ill 
will, and was thought to have acquired, at the treaty of Paris a 



VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 257 

preponderance of dominion -wliich was perilous to the balance of 
power ; but, though many were willing to wound, none had yet 
ventured to strike ; and America, if defeated in 1777, would have 
been suffered to fall unaided. 

Burgoyne had gained celebrity by some bold and dashing ex- 
ploits in Portugal during the last war; he was personally as brave 
an officer as ever headed British troops; he had considerable skill 
as a tactitian; and his general intellectual abilities and acquire- 
ments were of a high order. He had several very able and ex- 
perienced officers under him, among whom were Major General 
Philips and Brigadier General Frazer. His regular troops amount- 
ed, exclusively of the corps of artillery, to about 7,200 men, rank 
and file. Nearly half of these were Germans. He had also an 
auxiliary force of from two to three thousand Canadians. He 
summmoned the warriors of several tribes of the red Indians near 
the Western lakes to join his army. Much eloquence was poured 
forth both in America and in England in denouncing the use of 
these savage auxiliaries. Yet Burgoyne seems to have done no 
more than Montcalm, Wolfe, and other French, American, and 
English generals had done before him. But, in truth, the lawless 
ferocity of the Indians, their unskilfulness in regular action, and 
the utter impossibility of bringing them under any discipline, 
made their services of little or no value in times of difficulty ; 
while the indignation which their outrages inspired went far to 
rouse the whole population of the invaded districts into active 
hostilities against Burgoyne's force. 

Burgoyne assembled his troops and confederates near the Biver 
Bonquet, on the west side of Lake Champlain. He then, on the 
21stof June> 1777, gave his red allies a war feast, and harangued 
them on the necessity of abstaining from their usual cruel prac- 
tices against unarmed people and prisoners. At the same time, he 
published a pompous manifesto to the Americans, in which he 
threatened the refractory with all the horrors of war, Indian as well 
as European. The army proceeded by water to Crown Point, a 
fortification which the Americans held at the northern extremity 
of the inlet, by which the water from Lake George is conveyed to 
Lake Champlain. He landed here without opposition; but the 
reduction of Ticonderoga, a fortification about twelve miles from 
Crown Point, was a more serious matter, and was supposed to be 
the most critical part of the expedition. Ticonderoga commanded 
the passage along the lakes, and was considered to be tha key to 
the route which Burgoyne wished to follow. The English had been 
repulsed in an attack on it in the war with the French in 1758 with 
severe loss. But Burgoyne now invested it with great skill ; and 
the American general, St. Clair, who had only an ill equipped 
army of 3,000 men, evacuated it on the 5th of July. It seems evi- 
dent that a different course would have caused the destruction or 
capture of his whole army, which, weak as it was, was the chifef 
D.B.— 9 



258 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

force then in the field for the protection of the New England States. 
When censured by some of his countrymen for abandoning Ticon- 
deroga St. Clair truly replied "that he had lost a post, but saved a 
province. " Burgoyne's troops pursued the retiring Americans, 
gained several advantages over them, and took a large part of their 
artillery and military stores. 

The loss cf the British in these engagements was trifling. The 
army moved southward along Lake George to Skenesborough, and 
thence, slowly and with great, difficultj^, across a broken country, 
full of creeks and marshes, and clogged by the enemy with felled 
trees and other obstacles, to Fort Edward, on the Hudson Eiver, 
the American troops continuing to retire before them. 

Burgoyne reached the left bank of the Hudson Biver on the 30th 
of July. Hitherto he had overcome every difficulty which the enemy 
and the nature of the country had placed in his way. His army 
was in excellent order and in the highest spirits, and the peril of 
the expedition seemed over v/hen once on the bank of the river 
which was to be the channel of communication between them and 
the British army in the South. But their feelings, and those of the 
English nation in general when their successes were announced, 
may best be learned from a contemporary writer. Burkf^- in the 
"Annual Register" for 1777, describes them thus: 

" Such was the rapid torrent of success, which swept every tning 
away before the Northern army in its onset. It is not to be won- 
dered at if both officers and private men were highly elated with 
their good fortune, and deemed that and their prowess to be irre- 
sistible; if they regarded their enemy with the greatest contempt ; 
considered their own toils to be nearly at an end; Albany to be al- 
ready in their hands; and the reduction of the northern provinces 
to be rather a matter of some time than an arduous task full of diffi- 
culty and danger. 

"At home, the joy and exultation was extreme; not only at court, 
but with all those who hoped or wished the unqualified subjugation 
and unconditional submission of the colonies. The loss of repu- 
tation was greater to the Americans, and capable of more fatal 
consequences, than even that of ground, of posts, of artillery, 
or of men. All the contemptuous and most degrading charges 
which had been made by their enemies, of their wanting the resolu- 
tion and abilities of men, even in their defense of whatever was 
dear to them, were now repeated and believed. Those who still 
regarded them as men, and who had not yet lost all afiection to 
them as brethren; who also retained hopes that a happy reconcilia- 
tion upon constitutional principles, without sacrificing the dignity 
of just authority of government on the one side, or dereliction of 
rights of freemen on the other, was not even now impossible, not- 
withstanding their favorable dispositions in general, could nothelp 
feeling upon this occasion that the Ameri<tans sunk not a little in 
their estimation. It was not difficult to diffuse an opin^3n that th.* 



VTCTOBY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 259 

war in effect was over, and that any farther resistance could serve 
only to render the terms of their submission the worse. Such were 
some of the immediate effects of the loss of the grand keys of North 
America — Ticonderoga, and the lakes. 

The astonishment and alarm which these events produced among 
the Americans were naturally great ; but in the midst of their dis- 
asters, none of the colonists showed any disposition to submit. 
The local governments of the New England States, as well as the 
Congress, acted with vigor and firmness in their efforts to repel the 
enemy. General Gates was sent to take the command of the army 
at Saratoga ; and Arnold, a favorite leader of the Americans, was 
dispatched by Washington to act under him, with re-enforcements 
of troops and guns from the main American army. Burgoyne's 
employment of the Indians now produced the worst possible effects. 
Though he labored hard to check the atrocities which they were 
accustomed to commit, he could not prevent the occurrence of 
many barbarous outrages, repugnant both to the feelings of hu- 
manity and to the laws of civilized warfare. The American com- 
manders took care that the reports of these excesses should be 
circulated far and wide, well-knowing that they would make the 
stern New Englanders not droop, but rage. Such was their effect ; 
and though, when each man looked upon his wife, his children, 
his sisters, or his aged parents, the thought of the merciless Indian 
"thirsting for the blood of man, woman, and child," of "the can- 
nibal savage torturing, murdering, roasting, and eating the man- 
gled victims of his barbarous battles,"* might raise terror in the 
bravest breasts ; this very terror produced a directly contrary effect 
to causing submission to the royal army. It was seen that the few 
friends of the royal cause as well as its enemies, were liable to be 
the victims of the indiscriminate rage of the savages ;t and thus 
"the inhabitants of the open and frontier countries had no choice 
of acting : they had no means of security left but by abandoning 
their habitations and taking up arms. Every man saw the necessity 
of becoming a tempory soldier, not only for his own security, but 
for the protection and defense of those connections which are 
dearer than life itself. Thus an army was poured forth by the 
woods, mountains, and marshes, which in this part were thickly 
sown with plantations and villages. The Americans recalled their 
courage, and, when their regular army seemed to be entirely wasted, 
the spirit of the country produced a much greater and more formid- 
able force."! 

While resolute recruits, accustomed to the use of fire-arms, and 
all partially trained by service in the provincial militias, were 
thus flocking to the standard of Gates and Arnold at Saratoga, and 

* Lord ntiatliam's speecli on the employment of Indians in tlie war. 
^ see. in tlie '-Annual Register " for 17TT, p. ill, the "Narrative of th? 
Murder oi Aliss :Si Crea, the daughter of an Americau Loyalist.'" t BurKe«- 



260 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

wliile Burgoyne was engaged at Fort Ed-ward in providing the 
means for the farther advance of his army through the intricate 
and hostilo country that still lay before him, two events occurred, 
in each of which the British sustained loss and the Americans ob- 
tained ad vantage, the moral effects of which were even more import- 
ant than the immediate result of the encounters. When Burgoyne 
left Canada, General St. Leger was detached from that province 
with a mixed force of about 1000 men and some' light field-pieces 
across Lake Ontario against Fort Stanwix, which the Americans 
held. After capturing this, he was to march along the Mohawk 
River to its confluence with the Hudson, between Saratogo and 
Albany, where his force and that of Burgoyne's were to unite. 
But, after some successes, St. Leger was obliged to retreat, and to 
abandon his tents and large quantities of stores to the garrison. 
At the very time that General Burgoyne heard of this disaster, he 
experienced one still more severe in the defeat of Colonel Baum, 
with a large detachment of German troops, at Bennington, whither 
Burgoyne had sent them for the purpose of capturing some maga- 
zines of provisions, of which the British army stood greatly in 
need. The Americans, augmented by continual accessions of 
strength, succeeded, after many attacks, in breaking this corps, 
which fled into the woods, and left its commander mortally 
wounded on the field : they then marched against a force of five 
hundred grenadiers and light infantry, which was advancing to 
Colonel Baum's assistance under Lieutenant-Colonel Breyman, 
who, after a gallant resistance, was obliged to retreat on the main 
army. The British loss in these two actions exceeded six hundred 
men ; and a party of American Loyalists, on their way to join the 
Army, having attached themselves to Colonel Baum's corps, were 
destroyed with it. 

Notwithstanding these reverses, which added greatly to the 
spirit and numbers of the American forces, Burgoyne determined 
to advance. It was impossible any longer to keep up his communi- 
cations with Canada by way of the lakes, so as to supply hia 
army on his southward march ; but having, by uliremitting exer- 
tions, collected provisions for thirty days, he crossed the Hudson 
by means of a bridge of rafts, and, marching a short distance 
along its western bank, he encamped on the 14th of September on 
the heights of Saeatoga, about sixteen miles from Albany. The 
Americans had fallen back from Saratoga, and were now strongly 
posted near Stillwater, about half way between Saratoga and Al- 
bany, and showed a determination to recede no farther. 

Meanwhile Lord Howe, with the bulk of the British army that 
had lain at New York, had sailed away to the Delaware, and there 
commenced a campaign against Washington, in which the English 
general tockPbila lelphie, and gained other showy but unprofitable 
successes. But Sir Henry Clinton, a brave and skilful officer, was 
left with a considerable force at New York, and he undertook the 



VICTOR r OF THE AMERICAXS AT SARATOGA. 261 

task of moving up the Hudson to co-operate with Burgoyne. 
Clinton was obliged for this purpose to wait for re-enforcements 
which had been promised from England, and these did not arrive 
till September. As soon as he received them, Clinton embarked 
about 3,000 of his men on a flotilla, convoyed by some ships of 
war under Commander Hotham, and proceeded to force his way 
up the river. 

The country between Burgoyne's position at Saratoga and that 
of the Americans at Stillwater was rugged, and seamed with creeks 
and water-courses ; but, alter great labor in making bridges and 
temporary causeways, the British army moved forward. About four 
miles from Saratoga, on the afternoon of the 19th of September, a 
sharp encounter took place between part of the English right wing, 
under Burgoyne himself, and a strong body of the enemy, under 
Gates and Arnold. The conflict lasted till sunset. The British 
remained masters of the field ; but the loss on each side was nearly 
equal (from five hundred to six hundred men) ; and the spirits of 
the Americans were greatly raised by having withstood the best 
regular troops of the English army. Burgoyne now halted again, 
and strengthened his position by field-works and redoubts ; and 
the Americans also improved their defenses. The two armies re- 
mained nearly within cannon-shot of each other for a considerable 
time, during which Burgoyne was anxiously looking for intelli- 
gence of the promised expedition from New York, which, according 
to the original plan, ought by this time to have been approaching 
Albany from the south. At last a messenger from Clinton made 
his way, with great difficulty, to Burgoyne's camp and brought the 
information that Clinton was on his way up the Hudson to attack 
the American forts which barred the passage up that river to Albany. 
Burgoyne, in reply, stated his hopes th at the promised co-opera- 
tion would be speedy and decisive, and added, that unless he re- 
ceived assistance before the 10th of October, he would be obligee^ 
to retreat to the lakes through want of provisions. 

The Indians and the Canadians now began to desert Burgoyne, 
while, on the other hand, Gates's army was continually re-enforced 
by fresh bodies of the militia. An expeditionary force was de- 
tached by the Americans, which made a bold, though unsuccessful 
attempt to retake Ticonderoga. And finding the number and 
spirit of the enemy to increase daily and his own stores of pro- 
visions to diminish, Burgoyne determined on attacking the Amer- 
icans in front of him, and, by dislodging them from their position, 
to gam the means of moving upon Albany, or, at least, of relieving 
his troops from the straitened position in which they were cooped 
up. 

Burgoyne's force was now reduced to less than 6,000 men. The 
right of his camp was on some high ground a little to the west of 
the river : thence his intrenchments extended along the lower 
^ound to the bank of the HudsoHj, their line being nearly at a 



262 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

right angle with the course of the stream. The lines were fortified 
in the center and on the left with redoubts and fieldworks. The 
numerical force of the Americans was now greater than the British, 
even in regular troops, and the numbers of the militia and volun- 
teers which had joined Gates and Arnold were greater still. The 
right of the American position, that is to say, the part of it nearest 
to the river, was too strong to be assailed with any prosj)ect of 
siiccess, and Burgoyne therefore determined to endeavor to force 
their left. For this purpose he formed a column of 1500 regular 
troops, with two twelve pounders, two howitzers, and six six- 
pounders. He headed this in person, having Generals Philips, 
Biedesel, and Fruzer under him. The enemy's force immediately 
in front of his lines was so strong that he dared not weaken the 
troops who guarded them by detaching any more to strengthen his 
column of attack. The right of the camp was commanded by 
Generals Hamilton and Spaight ; the left part of it was committed 
to the charge of Brigadier Goll. 

It was on the 7th of October that Burgoyne led his column on to 
the attack; and on the preceding day, the 6th, Clinton had suc- 
cessfully executed a brilliant enterprise against the two American 
forts which barred his progress up the Hudson. He had captured 
them both, with severe loss to the American forces opposed to him; 
he had destroyed the fleet which the Americans had been forming 
on the Hudson, under the protection of their forts; and the up- 
ward river was laid open to his squadron. He was now only a 
hundred and fifty-six miles distant from Burgoyne, and a detach- 
ment of 1700 men actually advanced within forty miles of Albany. 
Unfortunately, Burgoj-ne and Clinton were each ignorant of the 
other's movements; but if Burgoyne had won his battle on the 7th, 
he must, on advancing, have soon learned the tidings of Clinton's 
success, and Clinton would have heard of his. A junction would 
soon have been made of the two victorious armies, and the great 
objects of the campaign might yet have been accomplished. All 
depended on the fortune of the column with which Burgoyne, on 
the eventful 7th of October, 1777, advanced against the American 
position. There were brave men, both English and German, in 
its ranks; and, in i^articular, it comprised one of the best bodies of 
Grenadiers in the British service. 

Burgoyne pushed forward some bodies of irregular troops to 
distract the enemy's attention, and led his column to within three 
quarters of a mile from the left of Gates's camp, and then deploy- 
ed his men intoiine. The Grenadiers under Slajor Ackland were 
drawn up on the left, a corps of Germans in the center, and the 
English Light Infantry and the 21th regiment on the right. But 
Gates did not wait to be attacked; and directly the British line was 
formed and began to advance, the American general, with admir- 
able skill, caiTsed a strong force to make a sudden and vehement 
rush against '*s left. The Grenadiers under Ackland sustained the 



VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 263 

charge of superior numbers nobly. But Gates sent more Ameri- 
cans forward, and in a few minutes the action became general along 
the center, so as to prevent the Germans from sending any help 
to the Grenadiers. Burgoyne's right was not yet engaged ; but a 
mass of the enemy were observed advancing from their extreme 
left, with the evident intention of turning the British right, and 
cutting off its retreat. The Light Infantry and the 24th now fell 
back, and formed an oblique second line, which enabled them to 
baffle this maneuver, and also to succor their comrades in the loft 
wing, the gallant Grenadiers, who were overpowered by superior 
numbers, and, but for this aid, must have been cut to pieces. 
Arnold now came up with three American regiments, and attacked 
the right flank of the English double line. Burgoyne's whole 
force was soon compelled to retreat toward their camp ; the left 
and center were in complete disorder ; but the Light Infantry and 
the 24th checked the fury of the assailants, and the remains of 
Burgoyne's column with great difficulty effected their return to 
their camp, leaving six of their guns in the possession of V.ie 
enemy, and great numbers of killed and wounded on the field ; 
and especially a large proportion of the artillery-men, who had 
stood to their guns until shot down or bayoneted beside them by 
the advancing Americans. 

Burgoyne's column had been defeated, but the action was not yet 
over. The English had scarcely entered the camp, when the 
Americans, pursuing their success, assaulted it in several jjlaces 
with uncommon fierceness, rushing to the lines through a severe 
fire of grape-shot and musketry with the utmost fury. Arnold 
especially, who on this day appeared maddened with the thirst of 
combat and carnage, urged on the attack against a part of the in- 
trenchments which was occupied by the Light Infantry under Lord 
Balcarras.* But the English received him with vigor and spirit. 
The struggle here was obstinate and sanguinary. At length, as it 
grew toward evening, Arnold, having forced all obstacles, entered 
the works with some of the most fearless of his followers. But in 
this critical moment of glory and danger he received a painful 
wound in the same leg which had already been injured at the 
issault on Quebec. To his bitter regret, he was obliged to be car- 
ried back. His party still continued the attack ; but the English 
also continued their obstinate resistance, and at last night fell, and 
the assailants withdrew from this quarter of the British intrenc ..- 
ments. But in another part the attack had been more successful, 
A body of the Americans, under Colonel Brooke, forced their way 
in through a part of the intrenchments on the extreme right, which 
was defended by the German reserve under Colonel Breyman. 
The Germans resisted well, and Breyman died in defense of his 
post ; but the Americans made good the ground which they had 

* Bolita's " American War," book vliL 



264 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

won, and captured baggage, tents, artillery, and a store of aramn- 
nition, which they were greatly in need of. They had, by estab- 
lishing themselves on this j)oint, acquired the means of completely 
turning the right tlank of the British, and gaining their rear. To 
prevent this calamity, Burgoyne effected during the night a com- 
plete change of position. With great skill, he removed his whole 
army to some heights near the river, a little northward of the , 
former camp, and he there drew up his men, expecting to be at- 
tacked on the following day. But Gates was resolved not to risk 
the certain triumph which his success had already secured for him. 
He harassed the English with skirmishes, but attempted no regular 
attack. Meanwhile he detached bodies of troops on both sides of 
the Hudson to prevent the British from recrossing that river and to 
bar their retreat. When night fell, it became absolutely necessary 
for Burgoyne to retire again, and, accordingly, the troops were 
marched through a stormy and rainy night toward Saratoga, aban- 
doning their sick and wounded, and the greater part of their baggage 
to the enemy. 

Before the rear guard quitted the camp, the last sad honors were 
paid to the brave General Frazer, who had been mortally wounded 
on the 7th, and expired on the following da3\ The funeral of this 
gallant soldier is thus described by the Italian historian Botta : 

" Toward midnight the body of General Frazer was buried in 
the British camp. His brother officers assembled sadly round 
while the funeral service was read over the remains of their brave 
comrade, and his body was committed to the hostile earth. The 
ceremony, always mournful and solemn of itself, was rendered 
even terrible by the sense of recent losses, of present «nd fviture 
dangers, and of regret for the deceased. Meanwhile the blaze and 
roar of the American artilllery amid the natural darkness and still- 
ness of the night came on the senses with startling awe. The 
grave had been dug within range of the enemy's batteries ; and 
while the service was proceeding, a cannon ball struck the ground 
close to the coffin, and spattered earth over the face of the officiat- 
ing chaplain."* 

Burgoyne now took up his last position on the heights near Sara- 
toga ; and hemmed in by the enemy who refused any encounter, 
and baffled in all his attempts at finding a path of escaj)e, he there 
lingered until famine compelled him to capitulate. The fortitude 
of the British army during this melancholy period has been justly 
eulogized by many native historians, biit I prefer quoting the tes- 
timony of a foreign writer, as free from all possibility of partiality. 
]Bottasays:f 

"It exceeds the powerof words to describe the pitiable condition 
to which the British army was now reduced. The troops were 
worn down by a series of toil, privation, sickness and desperate 

* Botta, book vlii. t Book vllL 



VICTOET OF THE AMEBICANS AT SARATOGA, 2G5 

fighting. They were abandoned by the Indians and Canadians, 
and the effective force of the whole army was now diminished by 
repeated and heavy losses, which had principally fallen on the best 
soldiers and the most distinguished officers, from 10,000 combat- 
ants to less than one half that number. Of this remnant little more 
than 3,000 were English, 

"In these circumstances, and thus weakened, they were invested 
by an army of four times their own number, whose position ex- 
tended three parts of a circle round them ; who refused to fight 
them, as knowing their weakness, and who, from the nature of the 
ground could not be attacked in any part. In this helpless con- 
dition, obliged to be constantly under arms, while the enemy's 
cannon plaved on every part of their camp, and even the American 
riHe balls whistled in many parts of the lines, the troops of Bur- 
goyne retained their customary firmness, and, while sinking under 
a hard necessity, they showed"^ themselves worthy of a better fate. 
They could not be reproached with an action or a word which 
betrayed a want of temper or of fortitude." 

At length the 13th of October arrived, and as no prospect of 
assistance appeared, and the provisions were nearly exhausted, 
Burgoyne, by the ijnanimous advice of a council of war, sent a 
messenger to the American camp to treat of a Convention. 

General Gates in the first instance demanded that the royal army 
should surrender prisoners of war. He also proposed that the 
British should ground their arms. Burgoyne replied, ' ' This article 
is inadmissible in every extremity ; sooner than this army will 
consent to ground their arms in their encampment, they will rush 
on the enemv, determined to take no quarter." After various 
messages, a convention for the surrender of the army was settled, 
which°provided that "the troops under General Burgoyne were to 
march out of their camp with the honors of war, and the artillery 
of the entrenchments, to the verge of the river, where the arms and 
artillery were to be left. The arms to be piled by word of command 
from their own officers. A free passage was to be granted to the 
army under Lieutenant General Burgoyne to Great Britain, upon 
condition of not serving again in North America during the pres- 
ent contest." 

Tie Articles of Capitulation were settled on the 15th of October ; 
and on that very evening a messenger arrived from Clinton with 
an account of his success, and with the tidings that part of his 
force had penetrated as far as Esopus, within fifty miles of Bur- 
goyne's camp. But it was too late. The public faith was pledged; 
and the army was indeed too debilitated by fatigue and hunger to 
resist an attack, if made ; and Gates certainly would have made it, 
if the Convention had been broken off. Accordingly, on the 17th, 
the Convention of Saratoga was carried into effect. By this Con- 
vention 5,790 men surrendered themselves as pirisoners. The sick 
and wounded left in the oftmp when the British retreated to Sara- 



ae« DKCisi w ha ti^l ks, 

tog!\, togothor with the nutnbcsrs of tho British. Gorman, and OnifiA< 
vliai\ troops who woiv killtHi. \v»Mii\dod, or tsikon, and who had 
dosortod ill tho prooodiiig part of tho oxpoditiou, woro rookoued 
to bo 4.0v^l>. 

Tho Hritish siok and woundod who had faUon into tho hands of 
tho Amorians aftor tho battlo of tho sovouth woro troatod with ox- 
emplarv humanity; and whon tho Convontion was oxooutod, Gon- 
«rjil thvtos showod a nobh> dolicaoy of fooling, which dosorvos tho 
liighost dogroo of hvmor, Evorv oiroiimstauoo was avoiilod whioh 
Oi>uld givo tho appoanuico of triumph. Tho Amorioau troops 
ronminod within thoir linos until tho Jhitish had pilod thoirarms; 
iind whon this was dono, tho vanquishod othoors and soldiors woro 
recoivod with froindly kindnoss by thoir viotm-s, anvl thoir immodi- 
ate wants woro promptly and liborally sui^pliod. IMsoussions and 
disptitos aftorward arose as to somo of tho tonus of tho Convoiition, 
and tho Aniorioan Congress rofusod for a long timo to oarry into 
tftloot tho artiolo whioh proviilod for tho roturn of Hurgoyno's niou 
to Europo : but no blanio was imimtod to Gontn-al Gates or his 
army, who showod thoausolvos to bo generous as they had proved 
thomsolvos to bo bi*}\vo. 

Gates, aftor tho victory. in\modiately dispatched to Colonel "Wil- 
kinson to carry tho happy tidings to Congress. On being intro- 
duced into tho hall, he said. **The whole British army has laid 
Its anus at Sanvtogix ; our own. full of vigor and counige, expect 
your ordoi-s. It is for your wisdom to decide where the country 
nun* stiTl have need of their services." Honors and ivwards wore 
liberally voted by tho Congress to their conquering general and 
his men : and it would bo dillieult (says the Italian historian "i to 
describe tho transports of joy which tho news of this event excited 
luuong the Americans. They began to flatter themselves with a 
still more happy future. No one any longer felt juiy doubt about 
thoir achieving their independence. All hoped, and with good 
re:isou. that a success of tliis iu\poi*tanco would at length determiuo 
Franco, and the other European powers tliat waited for her exam 
pie, to doclant* themselves in favor of America. " 2' here could no 
longer be any question reitpetiini) the future, since there teas no 
lomjer the risk of espousing the cause of a i^xiple too feeble to dtfend 
themselves. "* 

The trtith of this was soon displayed in the conduct of Fmnce. 
"When the news arrived at Paris of tho capture of Ticondoroga, 
and of tho victorious march of l^urgoyno toward Albany, events 
which seemed decisive in favor of tho English, instnaetions had 
been immediately dispatched to Nant/.. and tho other ports of the 
kingdom, that no American privateers should be sutVered to enter 
them, except from indispensable necessity. ;\s to repair thoir vessels^ 
to obtain provisions, or to escape tho perils of the sea. Tho Amer. 

* BcttA, book Ix. 



BATTLE OF VALMY. 'zrj 

ican comrniHHionarH at Vaxin, in thoir difjgnst and dospair, had ahnost 
broken off all n(;<j/)thdioTiH with the French f^ovoriitnent ; and tliey 
6V0U endeavored to open cynnmunications with the liritish minis- 
try, liiittlie British government, elated with the first Hucoess of 
Burgoyne, refused t<'j listen to'any overtures for accommodation. 
B(it when tiie news of Saratoga reached Paris, the whole scene was 
changed. Franklin and his brother commissioners found all their 
difficulties with the French government vanish. The time seemed 
to have arrived for the house of Bonrbon to take full revenge for all 
its humiliations and losses in previous wars, Jn December a treaty 
was arranged and formally signed in the February following, by 
which France acknowledged ^/^e Jn/hperi/Jcrd UwUd StoMs of 
America. This was, of course, tantamount to a declaration of 
war with England, Sy^ain soon followed France ; and before long, 
Holland took the samfe course. Largely aided by French fleets 
and troops, the Americans vigorously maintained the war against 
the armies which England, in spite of her European foes, contin- 
tied Ui send across the Atlantic, iiut the stni'^gle was too unequal 
to be maintained by this country for many years ; and when the 
treaties of 178'5 restored jjeace to the world, the independence of 
the United States was reluctantly recognized by their ancient parent 
and recent enemy, England. 



Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of Bubgoynb at Saea- 

TOGA, A.l), 1777, AND THE BaTTLE OP VaLMY, A,D. 1702. 

1781. Surrender of Lord Comwallis and the British army to 
Washington, 

1782. Bodney's victory over the Spanish fleet. Unsuccessful 
siege of Gibraltar by the Spaniards and French. 

1783. End of the American war, 

1788, The States-General are convened in France* -, beginning of 
the Kevolution. 



CHAPTEE, XrV 

THE BATTLE OP TALMY, &.&. 1792. 

Purpurel metuunt tyrannl 
Injurloso ne pede proruas 
StanUjm columnan : neu populus frequeufi 
Ad arrna cessantes ad arrna 
Concitet, Imperlumque franj^at. 

HOKAT., Od.l., S6, 

A Uttfe Are Is quickly trodden out, 

WMcli, belAg aufferwi* ulvora cannot quench. 

SUAK£tiilEASfi. 



268 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

A FEW miles distant from the little town of St. Menehould, in 
the northeast of France, are the village and hillof Valmy; and near 
the crest of that hill a simple monument points out the burial- 
place of the heart uf a general of the French republic and a mar- 
shal of the French empire. 

The elder Kellerman (father of the distinguished oflficer of that 
name, whose cavalry charge decided the battle of Marengo) held 
high commands in the French armies throughout the wars of the 
Convention, the Directory, the Consulate, and the Empire. He 
survived those wars, and the empire itself, dying in extreme old 
age in 1820. The last wish of the veteran on his death-bed was 
that his heart should be deposited in the battle-field of Valmy, 
there to repose among the remains of his old companions in arms, 
who had fallen at his side on that spot twenty-eight years before, 
on the memorable day when they won the primal victorj' of Kev- 
olutionary France, and prevented the armies of Brunswick and 
the emigrant bands of Conde from marching on defenseless Paris, 
"and destroying the immature democracy in its cradle. 

The Duke of Valmy (for Kellerman, when made one of Napo- 
leon's military peers in 1802, took his title from this same battle- 
field) had participated, during his long and active career, in the 
gaining of many a victory far more immediately dazzling than the 
one, the remembrance of which he thus cherished. He had been 
present at many a scene of carnage, where blood flowed in del- 
uges, compared with which the libations of slaughter poured out 
at Valmy would have seemed scant and insignificant. But he 
rightly estimated the paramount importance of the battle with 
which he thus wished his appellation while living, and his mem- 
ory after his death, to be identified. The successful resistance 
which the raw Carmagnole levies and the disorganized relics of 
the old monarchy's army then opposed to the combined hosts and 
chosen leaders of Prussia, Austria, and the French refugee no- ' 
blesse, determined at once and forever the belligerent character of 
the revolution. The raw artisans and tradesmen, the clumsy 
burghers, the base mechanics, and low peasant-churls, as it had 
been the fashion to term the middle and lower classes in France, 
found that they could face cannon balls, pull triggers, and cross 
bayonets without having been drilled into military machines, and 
without being officered by scions of noble houses. They awoke 
to the consciousness of their own instinctive soldiership. They 
at once acquired confidence in themselves and in each other ; and 
that confidence soon grew into a spiritof unbounded audacity and 
ambition. "From the cannonade of Valmy may be dated the 
commencement of that career of victory which carried their arm- 
ies to Vienna and the Kremlin."* 
One of the gravest reflections that aries from the contemplation 

• AUsoa. 



BATTLE OF VALMT, 269 

^f the civil restlessness and military enthusiasm which the close 
of the last century saw nationalized in France, is the considera- 
tion that these disturbing influences have become perpetual. No 
settled system of government, that shall endure from generation 
to generation, that shall be proof against corruption and popular 
violence seems cax)able of taking root among the French. And 
every revolutionary movement in Paris thrills throughout the 
rest of the world. Even the succsseses which the powers allied 
against France gained in 1814 and 1815, important as they were, 
could not annul the affects of the preceding twenty-three years of 
general convulsion and war. 

In 1830, the dynasty which foreign bayonets had imposed on 
France wns shaken off, and men trembled at the expected out- 
break of French anarchy and the dreaded inroads of French am- 
bition. They "looked forward with harassing anxiety to a period 
of destruction similar to that which the Eoman world experienced 
about the middle of the third century of our era."* Louis 
Philippe cajoled Revolution, and then strove with seeming suc- 
cess to stifle it. But, in spite of Fieschi laws, in spite of the daz- 
zle of Algerian razzias and Pyrenee-effacing marriages, in spite of 
hundreds of armed forts, and hundreds of thousands of coercing 
trooj)s. Revolution lived, and struggled to get free. The old Titan 
spirit heaved restlessly beneath " the monarchy based on repub- 
lican institutions. " At last, three years ago, the whole fabric of 
kingcraft was at once rent and scattered to the winds by the up- 
rising of the Parisian democracy ; and insurrections, barricades 
and dethronements, the downfalls of coronets and crowns, the 
armed collisions of parties, systems, and populations, became the 
commonplaces of recent European history. 

France now calls herself a republic. She first assumed that 
title on the 20th of September, 1792, on the very day on which 
the battle of Valmy was fought and won. To that battle the dem- 
ocratic spirit which in 1848, as well as in 1792, proclaimed the 
Republic in Paris, owed its preservntion, and it is thence that the 
imperishable activity of its principles may be dated. 

Far different seemed the prospects of democracy in Europe on 
the eve of that battle, and far different would have been the pres- 
ent position and influence of the French nation, if Brunswick's 
columns had charged with more boldness, or the lines of Dumou- 
riez resisted with less firmness. When France, in 1792, declared 
war with the great powers of Europe, she was far from possessing 
that splendid military organization which the experience of a few 
revolutionary campaigns taught her to assume, and which she has 
never abandoned. The army of the old monarchy had, during 
the latter part of the reign of liouis XV., sunk into gradual 

* See Niebuhr's Preface to tlie second volume of the History ol Roma 
written in October, ifKio. ^ 



270 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

decay, both in numerical force, and in efB.ciency of equipment 
and spirit. The laurels gained by the auxiliary regiments which 
Louis XVI. sent to the American war, did but little to restore the 
general tone of the army. The insubordination and license which 
the revolt of the French guards, and the participation of other 
troops in many of the first excesses of the Revolution, introduced 
among the soldiery, were soon rapily disseminated through all the 
ranks. Under the Legislative Assembly, every complaint of the 
soldier against his officer, however frivolous or ill founded, was 
listened to with eagerness, and investigated with partiality, on 
the principles of liberty and equality. Discipline accordingly be- 
came more and more relaxed ; and the dissolution of several of 
the old corps, under the pretext of their being tainted with an 
aristocratic feeling, aggravated the confusion and inefficiency of 
the war department. Many of the most effective regiments during 
the last period of the monarchy had consisted of foreigners. 
These had either been slaughtered in defense of the throne 
against insurrections, like the Swiss, or had been disbanded, and 
had crossed the frontier to recruit the forces which were assem- 
bling for the invasion of France . Above all, the emigration of the 
noblesse had stripped the French army of nearly all its officers of 
high rank, and of the greatest portion of its subalterns. Above 
twelve thousand of the high-born youth of France, who had been 
trained to regard military command as their exclusive patrimony, 
and to whom the nation had been accustomed to look up as its 
natural guides and champions in the storm of war, were now mar 
shaled beneath the banner of Conde and the other emigran> 
princes for the overthrow of the French armies and the reduction 
of the French capital. Their successors in the French regiments 
and brigades had as yet acquired neither skill nor experience ; 
they possessed neither self-reliance, nor the respect of the men 
who were under them. 

Such was the state of the wrecks of the old army; but the bulk 
of the forces with which France began the war consisted of raw 
insurrectionary levies, which were even less to be depended on. 
The Carmagnoles, as the revolutionary volunteers were called, 
flocked, indeed, readily to the frontier from every department 
Then the war was proclaimed, and the fierce leaders of the Jacobins 
-\houted that the country was in danger. They were full of zeal 
♦Nnd courage, "heated and excited by the scenes of the Revolution, 
Xnd inflamed by the florid eloquence, the songs, dances, and 
signal-words with which it had been celebrated."* But they were 
utterly undisciplined, and turbulently impatient of superior au- 
thority or systematic control. Many ruffians, also, who were 
Bullied with participation in the most sanguinary horror.* of Paris, 
joined the camps, and were pre-eminent alike for misconduct be« 

* Scott, " UlQ of Napoleoa" vol. i., e. vlli. 



BATTLE OF VALMY, 271 

fore the enemy and for savage insubordination against their own 
officers. On one occasion during the campaign of Valmy, eight 
battalions of federates, intoxicated with massacre and sedition 
joined the forces under Dumouriez, and soon threatened to uproot 
all discipline, saying openly that the ancient ofl&cers were traitors, 
and that it was necessary to purge the army, as they had Paris, of 
its aristocrats. Dumouriez posted these battalions apart from the 
others, placed a strong force of cavalry behind them, and two 
pieces of cannon on their flank. Then, affecting to review them, 
he halted at the head of the line, surrounded by all his staff, and 
an escort of a hundred hussars. "Fellows," said he, "for I will 
not call you either citizens or soldiers, you see before you this 
artillery, behind you this cavalry; you are stained with crimes, 
and I do not tolerate here assassins or executioners, I know that 
there are scoundrels among you charged to excite you to crime. 
Drive them from among you, or denounce them to me, for I shall 
hold you responsible for their conduct."* 

One of our recent historians of the Revolution, who narrates 
this incident,! thus apostrophizes the French general: 

"Patience, O Dumouriez! this uncertain heap of shriekers, 
mutineers, were they once drilled and inured, will become a phal- 
anxed mass of fighters; and wheel and whirl to order swiftly, like 
the wind or the whirlwind, tanned mustachio-figures, often bare- 
foot, even barebacked, with sinews of iron, who require only 
bread and gunpowder; very sons of fire, the adrcitest, hastiest, 
hottest ever seen, perhaps, since Attila's time." 

Such phalanxed masses of fighters did the Carmagnoles ulti- 
mately become; but France ran a fearful risk in being obliged to 
rely on them, when the process of their transmutation had barely 
commenced. 

The first events, indeed, of the war were disastrous and dis- 
graceful to France, even beyond what might have been expected 
from the chaotic state in which it found her armies as well as her 
government. In the hopes of profiting by the unprepared state 
of Austria, then the mistress of the Netherlands, the French 
opened the campaign of 1792, by an invasion of Flanders, with 
forces whose muster-rolls showed a numerical overwhelming su- 
periority to the enemy, and seemed to promise a speedy conquest 
of that old battle-field of Europe. But the first flash of an Aus- 
trian sabre or the first sound of an Austrian gun, was enough to 
discomfit the French. Their first corps, four thousand strong, 
that advanced from Lille across the frontier, came suddenly upon 
a far inferior detachment of the Austrian garrison of Tournay. 
Not a shot was fired, nor a bayonet leveled. With one simultaneous 
cry of Panic, the French broke ,'*iid i*an headlong back to Lille, 
where titey completed the spez-iznen of insubordination which 

* Lamartine. t Cariyle. 



272 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

they had given in the field by murdering their general and several 
of their chief officers. On the same day, another division under 
Biron, mustering ten thousand sabres and bayonets, saw a few 
Austrian skirmishers reconnoitering their position. The French 
advanced posts had scarcely given and received a volley, and only 
a few balls from the enemy's field-pieces had fallen among the 
lines, when two regiments of French dragoons^ raised the cry 
'•We are betrayed," galloped ofi", and were followed in disgraceful 
rout by the rest of the whole army. Similar panics, or repulses 
almost equally discreditable, occurred whenever Eochambeau, or 
Luckner, or La Fayette, the earliest French generals in the war, 
brought their troops into the presence of the enemy. 

Meanwhile the allied sovereigns had gradually collected on the 
Rhine a veteran and finely-disciplined army for the invasion of. 
France, which for numbers, equipment, and martial renown, both 
of generals and men, was equal to any that Germany had ever 
sent forth to conquer. Their design was to strike boldly and 
decisively at the heart of France, and, penetrating the country 
through the Ardennes, to proceed by Chalons upon Paris. The 
obstacles that lay in their way seemed insignificant. The disor- 
der and imbecility of the French armies had been even augmented 
by the forced :diglit of La Fayette and a sudden change of generals. 
The only troops posted on or near the track by which the allies 
were about to advance were the 23,000 men at Sedan, whom La 
Fayette had commanded, and a corps of 20,000 near Metz, the 
command of which had just been transferred from Luckner to 
Kellerman. There were only three fortresses which it was neces* 
saryfor the allies to capture or mask — Sedan, Longwy, and Verdun. 
The defenses and stores of all these three were known to be 
wretchedly dismantled and insufficient; and when once these 
feeble barriers were overcome and Chalons reached, a fertile and 
unprotected country seemed to invite the invaders to that "mili- 
tary promenade to Paris " which they gayly talked of accomplish- 
ing. 

At the end of July, the allied army, having fully completed 
all preparations for the campaign, broke up from its cantonments, 
and, marching from Luxembourg upon Longwy, crossed the 
French frontier. Siity thousand Prussians, trained in the schools, 
and many of them under the eye of the Great Frederic, heirs of 
the glories of the Seven Years' War, and universally esteemed the 
best troops in Europe, marched in one column against the central 
point of attack. Forty-five thousand Austrians, the greater part 
of whom were picked troops, and had served in the recent Turkish 
war, supplied two formidable corps that supported the flanks of 
the Prussians. There was also a powerful body of Hessians ; and 
leagued with the Germans against the Parisian democracy came 
15,000 of the noblest and the bravest among the sons of France. 
In these corps of emigrants, many of the highest born of the French 



BATTLE OF VALMT. '273 

nobility, scl«ns of houses wliose chivalric trophies had for eentn- 
ries filled Europe with renown, served as rank and file. They 
looked on the road to Paris as the path which they were to carve 
out by their swords to victory, to honor, to the rescue of their 
king, to reunion with their families, to the recovery of their patri- 
.mony, and to the restoration of their order.* 

Over this imposing army the allied sovereigns placed as gener- 
lilissimo the Duke of Brunswick, one of the minor reigning princes 
of Germany, a statesman of no mean capacity, and who had acquir- 
ed in the Seven Years' War a military reputation second only to 
that of the Great Frederic himself. He had been deputed a few 
years before to quell the popular movements which then took 
place in Holland, and he had put down the attempted revolution 
in that country with a promptitude which appeared to augur equal 
success to the army that now marched under his orders on a simi- 
lar Kaission into France. 

Moving majestically forward, with leisurely deliberation, that 
seemed to show the consciousness of superior strength, and a 
steady purpose of doing their work thoroughly, the allies appear- 
ed before Longwy on the 20th of August, and the dispirited and 
despondent garrison opened the gates of that fortress to them 
after the first shower of bombs. On the 2d of September, the still 
more important stronghold of Verdun capitulated after scarcely the 
shadow of resistance. 

Brunswick's superior force was now interposed between Keller* 
man's troops on the left and the other French army near Sedan, 
which La Fayette's flight had, for a time, left destitute of a com- 
mander. It was in the power of the German general, by striking 
with an overwhelming mass to the right and left, to crush in suc- 
cession Gach of these weak armies, and the allies might then have 
marched irresistibly an d unresisted upon Paris. But at this crisis 
Dumouriez, the new commander-in-chief of the French, arrived at 
the camp near Sedan, and commenced a series of movements by 
which he reunited the dispersed and disorganized forces of his 
country, cheeked the Prussian columns at the very moment when 
the last obstacle to their triumph seemed to have given way, and 
finally rolled back thb tide of invasion far across the enemy's 
frontier. 

The French fortresses had fallen; but nature herself still offered 
to brave and vigorous defenders of the land the means of opposing 
a barrier to the progress of the allies. A ridge of broken ground, 
called the Argonne, extends from the vicinity of Sedan toward the 
southwest for about fifteen or sixteen leagues. The country of L' 
Argonne has now been cleared and drained; but in 1792 it was 
thickly wooded, and the lower portions of its unequal surface were 
filled with rivulets and marshes. It thus presented a natural barrier 

* See Scott, '.' Life of Napoleon," vol. i., c. xU 



^74 DECIST}':Bn^ATTLES. 

of from four or five leagues broad, wliich was absolutely impene* 
trable to an army, except by a few deliles. such as an interior force 
iniglit easily fortify and defend. Dumouriez succeeded in marcliing 
his army from Sedan behind the Argonne, and in occupying its 
passes, while the Prussians still lingered on the northeastern side 
of the forest line. Ordering Kellerman to wheel round from Metz to 
St. Menehould, ixnd the re-enforcements from the interior and ex- 
treme north also to concentrate at that spot, Dumouriez trusted to as- 
semble a powerful force in the rear of the southwest extremity of 
the Argonne, while with the twenty-live thousand men under his 
immediate command he held the enemy at bay before the passes, 
or forced him to a long circumvolution round one extremity of the 
forest ridge during which, favorable opportunities of assailing his 
flank were almost certain to occur. Dumouriez fortified the prin- 
cipal defiles, and boasted of the Thermopylae which he had found 
for the invaders; bnt the simile was nearly rendered fatally com- 
plete for the defending force. A pass, which was thought of inferior 
importance, had been but slightly manned, and an Austrian corps, 
iinder Clairfaj' t, forced it after some sharp fighting. Dumouriez 
with great difficulty saved himself from being enveloped and des- 
troyed by the hostile columns that now pushed through the forest. 
But instead of despairing at the failure of his plans, and tailing 
back into the interior, to be completely severed from Kellerman's 
army, to be hunted as a fugitive under the walls of Paris by the 
victorious Germans, and to lose all chance of ever rallying his dis- 
pirited troops, he resolved to cling to the difficult country in 
which the armies still were grouped, to force a junction with Keller- 
man and so to place himself at the head of a force which the invaders 
would not dare to disregard, and by which he might drag them back 
from the advance on Paris, which he had not been able to bar. Accord- 
ingly, by a rapid movement to the south, during which, in his own 
words, " France was within a hair's breath of destruction," and 
after with difficulty checking several panics of his troops, in which 
they ran by thousands at the sight of a few Prussian hussars, Du- 
mouriez succeeded in establishing head-quarters in a strong posi- 
tion at St. Menehould, protected by the marshes and shallows of 
the rivers Aisne and Aube, beyond which, to the northwest, rose a 
firm and elevated plateau, called Dampiere's camp, admirably situ- 
ated for commanding the road by Chalons to Paris, and where he 
intended to post Kellerman's army so soon as it ctvme up.* 

The news of the retreat of Dumouriez from th^ Argonne passes, 
and of the panic flight of some divisions of his troops, spread rap- 
idly throughout the country, and Kellerman, who believed that his 

• ?:ome late writers represent that Rruns\vlck did not wish to crush Du- 
mouriez. Tliere is no sufficient auttioiity for tiiis insinuation, wlucli seems 
to uavo bt^pu iirst prompted ly a desh'e to soothe the wounded military 
piide Qt tlio Prusslaiis. 



BATTLE OF VALMY. 275 

comrade's army had been annihilated, and feared to fall among th© 
victorious musses of the Prussians, had halted on his march from 
Metz when almost close to St. Menehould. He had actually com- 
menced a retrogade movement, when couriers from his commander- 
in-chief checked him from the fatal course: and then continuing to 
wheel round the rear and left flank of the troops at St. Menehould, 
Kellerman, with twenty thousand of the army of Metz, and 
some thousands of volunteers, who had joined him in the march, 
made his appearance to the west of Dumouriez on the very even- 
ing when WestQrmaix and Thouvenot, two of the staff officers of Du- 
mouriez, galloped in with the tidings that Brunswick's army had 
come through the upper passes of the Argonnein full force and was 
deploying on the heights of La Lune, a chain of eminences that 
stretched obliquely from southwest to northeast, opposite the high 
ground which Dumouriez held, also opposite, but at a shorter dis- 
tance from the position which Kellerman was designed to occupy. 

The allies were now, in fact, nearer to Paris than were the French 
troops themselves ; but, as Dumouriez had foreseen, Brunswick 
deemed it unsafe to march upon the capital with so large a hostile 
force left in his rear, between his advancing columns and his base 
of operations. The young king of Prussia, who was in the allied 
camp, and the emigrant princes, eagerly advocated an instant attack 
upon the nearest French general. Kellerman had laid himself 
unnecessarily open, by advancing beyond Dampierre's camp, which 
Dumouriez had designed for him, and moving forward across the 
Aube to the x)lateau of Valmy, a post inferior in strength and space 
to that which he had left, and which brought him close ujjon the 
Prussian lines, leaving him separated by a dangerous interval from 
the troops under Dumouriez himself. It seemed easy for the Prus- 
sian army to overwhelm him while thus isolated, and then they 
might surround and crush Dumouriez at their leisure. 

Accordingly, the right wing of the allied army moved forward in 
the gray of the morning of the 20th of September, to gain Keller- 
man's left flank and rear, and cut him off from retreat upon Cha- 
lons, while the rest of the army, moving from the heights of La 
Lune, which here converge semicircularly round the plateau of 
Valmy, were to assail his position in front, and inter^oose between 
him and Dumouriez. An unexpected collision between some of 
the advanced cavalry on each side in the low ground warned Kel- 
lerman of the enemy's approach. Dumouriez had not been unob- 
servant of the danger of his comrade, thus isolated and involved, 
and he had ordered up troops to support Kellerman on either flank 
in the event of his being attacked. These troops, h.owever, moved 
forward slowly ; and Kellerman's arm ranged on the plateau of 
Valmy, "projected like a cape into the midst of the lines of Prus- 
sian bayonets."* A thick autumnal mist floated in waves of vapoy 

* See Lamartine, Hist. Glrond., livre xvii. I kave drawn much of the en* 
BUin^ description from, him . . . — 



276 DECISIVE BATTLES, 

over the plains and ravines that lay between the two armies, leav- 
ing only the crests and peaks of the hills glittering in the early 
light. About ten o'clock the fog began to clear off, and then the 
French from their promontory saw emerging from the white wreaths 
of mist, and glittering in the sunshine, the countless Prussian cav- 
alry, which were to envelop them as in a net if once driven from 
their position, the solid columns of the infantry, that moved for 
ward as if animated by a single will, the bristling batteries of the 
artillery, and the glancing clouds of the Austrian light troops, fresh 
from their contests with the Spahis of the east. 

The best and bravest of the French must have beheld this spec- 
tacle with secret apprehension and awe. However bold and resolute 
a man may be in the discharge of duty, it is an anxious and fearful 
thing to be called on to encounter danger among comrades of whose 
steadiness you can feel no certainty. Each soldier of Kellerman's 
drmy must have remembered the series of panic routs which had 
hitherto invariably taken place on the French side during the war, 
and must have cast restless glances to the right and left to see if 
any symptoms of wavering began to show themselves, and to cal- 
culate how long it was likely to be before a general rush of his 
comrades to the rear would either hurry him off with involuntary 
disgrace, or leave him alone and helpless to be cut down by assail- 
ing multitudes. 

On that very morning, and at the self-same hour in which the 
allied forces and the emigrants began to descend from La Lune to 
the attack of Valmy, and while the cannonade was opening between 
the Prussian and the Revolutionary batteries, the debate in the 
National Convention at Paris commenced on the proposal to pro- 
claim France a republic. 

The old monarchy had little chance of support in the hall of the 
Convention ; but if its more effective advocates at Valmy had tri- 
umphed, there were yet the elements existing in France for an 
effective revival of the better part of the ancient institutions, and 
for substituting Reform for Revolution. Only a few weeks before, 
numerously-signed addresses from the middle classes in Paris, 
Rouen, and other large cities, had been presented to the king, ex- 
pressive of their horror of the anarchists, and their readiness to 
uphold the rights of the crown, together with the liberties of the 
subject. And an armed resistance to the authority of the Conven- 
tion, and in favor of the king, was in reality at this time being 
actively organized in La Vendee and Brittany, the importance of 
which may be estimated from the formidable opposition which the 
Royalists of these provinces made to the Republican party at a later 
period, and under much more disadvantageous circumstances. It 
is a fact peculiarly illustrative of the importance of the battle of 
Valmy, that "during the summer of 1792, the gentlemen of Brittany 
entered into an extensive association for the purpose of rescuing 
,the country from the oppressive yoke \srhioh had been imposed bv 



BATTLE OP VALM'r. 211 

the Parisian demagogues. At the liead of the wliole was the Mar- 
quis de la Kouarie, one of those remarkable men who rise into 
eminence during the stormy daj'^s of a revolution, from conscious 
ability to direct its current. Ardent, impetuous and enthusiastic, 
he was first distinguished in the Anerican war, when the intrepid- 
ity of his conduct attracted the admiration of the Republican troops, 
and the same qualities rendered him at first an ardent supporter of 
the Eevolution in France ; but when the atrocities of the people 
began, he espoused with equal warmth the opposite side, and used 
the utmost efforts to rouse the noblesse of Brittany against the 
plebeian yoke which had been imposed upon them by the National 
Assembly. He submitted his plan to the Count d'Artois, and had 
organized one so extensive as would have proved extremely formid- 
able to the Convention, if the retreat of the Duke of Brunswick, 
in September, 1792, had not damped the ardor of the whole of the 
west of France, then ready to break out into insurrection."* 

And it was not only among the zealots of the old monarchy that 
the cause of the king would then have found friends. The ineffa- 
ble atrocities of the September massacres had just occurred, and 
the reaction produced by them among thousands who had previously 
been active on the ultra-democratic side was fresh and powerful. 
The nobility had not yet been made utter aliens in the eyes of the 
nation by long expatriation and civil war. There was not yet a gen- 
eration of youth educated in revolutionary principles, and knowing 
no worship save that of military glory. Louis XVI. was just and 
humane, and deeply sensible of the necessity of a gradual exten- 
sion of political rights among all classes of his subjects. The 
Bourbon throne, if rescued in 1792, would have had the chances of 
stability such as did not exist for it in 1814, and seem never likely 
to be found again in France. ' 

Serving under Kellerman on that day was one who experienced, 
perhaps the most deeply of all men, the changes for good and for 
evil which the French Revolution has produced. He who, in his 
second exile, bore the name of the Count de Neuilly in this coun- 
try, and who lately was Louis Philippe, king of the French, figured 
in the French lines at Valmy as a young and gallant officer, cool 
and sagacious beyond his years, and trusted accordingly by Kel- 
lerman and Dumouriez with an important station in the national 
Qxmy. The Due de Chartres (the title he then bore) commanded 
the French right, General Valence was on the left, and Kellermaa 
himself took his post in the center, which was the strength and key 
of his position. 

Besides these celebrated men who were in the French army, and 
besides the King of Prussia, the Duke of Brunswick, and other 
men of rank and power who were in the lines of the allies, there 
was an individual present at the battle of Valmy, of little political 

* Alison, vol. iU,, p. 323. 



S78 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

note, but who lias exercised, and exerclsss a greater influence over 
the human mind, and whose fame is more widely spread than that 
of either duke, or general, or king. This was the German poet Gothe, 
then in early youth, and who had, out of curiosity, accompanied 
the allied army on its march into France as a mere spectator. He 
has given us a curious record of the sensations which he experi- 
enced during the cannonade. It must be remembered that many 
thousands in t-he French ranks then, like Gothe, felt the "cannon 
fever" for the first time. The German poet says,* 

"I had he.ard so much of the cannon fever, that I wanted to know 
what kind of a thing it was. Ennui, and a spirit which every kind 
of danger excites to daring, nay, even to rashness, induced me to 
ride up coolly to the outwork of La Lune. This was again occupied 
by our people ; but it presented the wildest aspect. The roofs were 
shot to pieces, the corn-shocks scattered about, the bodies of men 
mortally wotmded stretched upon them here and there, anri. occa- 
sionally a spent cannon ball fell and rtittled among the ruins of the 
tile roofs. 

"Quite alone, and left to myself, I rode away on the heights to 
the left, and could plainly survey the favorable i^osition of the 
French ; they were standing in the form of a semicircle, in the 
greatest quiet and security, Kellerman, then on the left wing, be' 
ing the easiest to reach. 

" I fell in with good company on the way, ofl&cers of my acquaint^ 
ance, belonging to the general staff and the regiment, greatly sur- 
prised to find me here. They wanted to take me back again with 
them ; but I spoke to them of particular objects I had in view, an^ 
they left me, without farther dissuasion, to my well-known singu- 
lar caprice. 

" I had now arrived quite in the region where the balls w^w 
plaj'ing across me : the sound of them is curious enough, as if it 
were composed of the humming of tops, the gurgling of water^ 
and the whistling of birds. They were less dangerous hj r^abon 
of the wetness of the ground ; wherever one fell, it stuck fast. 
And thus my foolish experimental ride was secured against th« 
danger at least of the balls rebounding. 

" In the midst of these circumstances, I was soon able to re- 
mark that something unusual was taking place within me. I paid 
close attention to it, and still the sensation can be described only 
by similitude. It appeared as if you were in eome extremely hot 
place, and, at the same time, quite penetrated by the heat of it, so 
that you feel j^ourself, as it were, quite one with the element in 
which you are. The eyes lose nothing of their strength or clear 
ness ; but it is as if the world had a kind of broAvn-red tint, 
which makes the situation, as well as the surrounding objects^ 
more impressive. I was unable to perceive any agitation of the 

♦ Gothe's " Campaign in France in 1792," Farle's translation, p. YT, 



BATTLE OF VALMY. 1^9 

blood ; but every thing seemed rather to be swallowed np in the 
glow of which I speak. From this, then, it is clear in what sense 
this condition can be called a fever. It is remarkable, however, 
that the horrible uneasy feeling arising from it is produced in us 
solely through the ears. For the cannon thunder, the howling 
and crashing of the balls through the air, is the real cause of these 
sensations. 

" After I had ridden back and was in perfect security, I remark- 
ed, with surprise, that the glow was completely extinguished, and 
not the slightest feverish agitation was left behind. On the whole, 
this condition is one of the least desirable ; as, indeed, among my 
dear and noble comrades, I found scarcely one who expressed a 
really passionate desire to try it." 

Contrary to the expectations of both friends and foes, the French 
infantry held their ground steadily under the fire of the Prussian 
guns, which thundered on them from La Lune, and their own ar- 
tillery replied with equal spirit and greater effect on the denser 
masses of the allied army. Thinking that the Prussians were 
slackening in their fire, Kellerman formed a column in charging 
order, and dashed down into the valley in the hopes of capturing 
some of the nearest guns of the enemy. A masked battery opened 
its fire on the French column, and drove it back in disorder, Kel- 
lerman having his horse shot under him, and being with difficulty 
carried ofif by his men. The Prussian columns now advanced in 
turn. The French artillery-men began to waver and desert their 
posts, but were rallied by the efforts and example of their officers, 
and Kellerman, reorganizing the line of his infantry, took his 
station in the ranks on foot, and called out to his men to let the 
enemy come close up, and then to charge them with the bayonet. 
The troops caught the enthusiasm of their general, and a cheerful 
shout of Vive la nation, taken ujj by one battalion from another 
pealed across the valley to the assailants. The Prussians hesitated 
from a charge up hill against a force that seemed so resolute and 
formidable ; they halted for a while in the hollow, and then slow- 
ly retreated up their own side of the valley. 

Indignant at being thus repulsed by such a foe, the King of 
Prussia formed the flower of his men in person, and, riding along 
the column, bitterly reproached them with letting their standard 
be thus humiliated. Then he led them on again to the attack, 
marching in the front line, and seeing his staff mowed down 
around him by the deadly fire which the French artillery reopened. 
But the troops sent by Dumouriez were now co-operating effectu- 
ally with Kellerman, and that general's own men, flushed by suc- 
cess, presented a firmer front than ever. Again the Prussians re- 
treated, leaving eight hundred dead behind, and at nightfall the 
French remained victors on the heights of Valmy. 

All hopes of crushing the Revolutionary armies, and of tha 
promenade to Paris, had now vanished, though Brunswick lin- 



280 DECISI VE BA TTLE8. 

gered long in the Argonne, till distress and sickness wasted away 
his once splendid force, and finally but a mere wreck of it rc' 
crossed the frontier. France, meanwhile, felt that she possessed 
a giant's strength, and like a giant did she use it. Before the 
close of that year all Belgium obeyed the National Convention at 
Paris, and the kings of Europe, after the lapse of eighteen centu- 
ries, trembled once more before a conquering military republic. 

Gothe's description of the cannonade has been quoted. His ob- 
servation to his comrades, and the camp of the allies at the end of 
the battle, deserves quotation also. It shows that the poet felt 
(and probably he alone, of the thousands there assembled, felt) 
the full importance of that day. He describes the consternation 
and the change of demeanor which he observed among his Prus- 
sian friends that evening. He tells us that "most of them were 
silent ; and, in fact, the power of reflection and judgment was 
wanting to all. At last I was called upon to say what I thought of 
the engagement, for I had been in the habit of enlivening and 
amusing the troop with short sayings. This time I said, ' From 
this place and from this day forth commences a new era in the world's 
history, and you can all say that you were present at its birth,'" 



Synopsis op Events between the Battle op Yalmy, a.d. 1792, and 
THE Battle of Waterloo, a.d. 1815. 

A.D. 1793. Trial and execution of Louis XVI. at Paris. Eng- 
land and Spain declare war against France. Eoyalist war in La 
Vendee. Second invasion of France by the allies. 

1794. Lord Howe's victory over the French fleet. Final parti- 
tion of Poland by Russia, Prussia, and Austria. 

1795. The French armies, under Pichegru, conquer Holland. 
Cessation of the war in La Vendee. 

1796. Bonaparte commands the French army of Italy, and gains 
repeated victories over the Austrians. 

1797. Victory of Jervis ofl" Cape St. Vincent. Peace of Campo 
Formio between France and Austria. Defeat of the Dutch olT 
Camperdown by Admiral Duncan. 

1798. Rebellion in Ireland. Expedition of the French under 
Bonaparte to Egypt. Lord Nelson destroys the French fleet at 
the battle of the Nile. 

1799. Renewal of the war between Austria and France. The 
Russian emperor sends an army in aid of Austria under Suwarrow. 
The French aro repeatedly defeated in Italy. Bonaparte returns 
from Egypt and makes himself First Consul of France. Massena 
wins the battle of Zurich. The Russian emperor makes peace 
mthFrauoe. 



STN'OPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC 281 

1800. Eoi^apayte passes the Alps, and defeats tlie Anstrians at 
yttbrengo. Moreau wins the battle of Hohenlinden. 

1801. Tr^^aty of Luneville between France and Austria. The 
l)attle of Copenhagen. 

1802. Peace of Amiens. 

1803. War between England and France renewed. 
.1804. Napoleon Bonaparte is made Emperor of France. 

1805. Great preparations of Napoleon to invade England. Aus- 
tria, supported by Russia, renews war with France. Napoleon 
marches into Germany, takes Vienna, and gains the battle of 
Austerlitz. Lord Nelson destroys the combined French and S^jan- 
ish fleets, and is killed at the battle of Trafalgar. 

180G. War between Prussia and France. Napoleon conquers 
Prussia at the battle of Jena. 

1807. Obstinate warfare between the French and Prussian arm- 
ies in East Prussia and Poland. Peace of Tilsit. 

1808. Napoleon endeavors to make his brother King of Spain. 
Rising of the Spanish nation against him. England sends troops 
to aid the Spaniards. Battle of Vimiera and Corunna. 

1809. War renewed between France and Austria. Battles of 
Asperne and Wagram. Peace granted to Austria. Lord Wel- 
lington's victory of Talavera, in Spain. 

1810. Marriage of Napoleon and the Archduchess Maria Louisa. 
Holland annexed to France. 

1812. War between England and the United States. Napoleon 
invades Russia. Battle of Borodino. The French occupy Mos- 
cow, which is burned. Disastrous retreat and almost total de- 
struction of the great army of France. 

1813. Prussia and Austria take up arms again against France. 
Battles of Lutzen, Bautzen, Dresden, Culm, and Leipsic. The 
French are driven out of Germany, Lord Wellington gains the 
great battle of Vittoria, which completes the rescue of Spain from 
France. 

1814. The allies invade France on the eastern, and Lord Wel- 
lington invades it on the southern frontier. Battles of Laon, 
Montmirail, Arcis-sur Aube, and others in the northeast of France; 
and of Toulouse in the south. Paris surrenders to the allies, and 
Napoleon abdicates. First restoration of the Bourbons. Napo- 
leon goes to the Isle of Elba, which is assigned to --him by the al- 
lies. Treaty of Ghent between the United States and England, 



282 DECISIVE BATTLM8. 

CHAPTER XV. 

BATTLE OF WATERLOO, A.D. 1815. 

Tliou first and last of fields, king-making victory I— Btbon. 

England has now been blessed with thirty-six years of peace. 
At no other period of her history can a similarly long cessation 
from a state of warfare be found. It is true that our troops have 
had battles to fight during this interval for the protection and ex- 
tension of our Indian possessions and o\ir colonies, butthes* have 
been with distant and unimportant enemies. The danger has 
never been brought near our own shores, and no matter of vital 
importance to our empire has ever been at stake. We have not 
had hostilities with either France, America, or Russia ; and when 
not at war with any of our peers, we feel ourselves to be substan- 
tially at peace. There has, indeed, throughout this long period, 
been no great war, like those with which the previous history of 
modern Europe abounds. There have been formidable collisions 
between particular states, and there have been still more formid- 
able collisions between the armed champions ot" the conliieting 
principles of absohitism and democracy ; but there has been no 
general war, like those of the French Revolution, like the Ameri- 
can, or the Seven Years' War, or like the war of the Spanish Suc- 
cession. It would be far too much to augur from this that no sim- 
ilar wars will again convulse the world; but the value of the period 
of peace which Europe has gained is incalculable, even if we look 
on it as only a long truce, and expect again to see the nations of 
the earth recur to what some philosophers have termed man's nat- 
ural state of warfare. 

No equal number of years can be found during which science, 
commerce, and civilization have advanced so rapidly and so ex- 
tensively as has been the case since 1815. When we trace their 
progress, especially in this country, it is impossible not to feel 
that their wondroiis development has been mainly due to the land 
having been at peace. * Their good effects cannot be obliteiated 
even if a series of wars were to recommence. When we reflect 
on this, and contrast these thirty-six years with the period that 
preceded them — a period of violence, of tumult, of unrestingly 
destructive energy— a period throughout which the wealth of na- 
tions was scattered like sand, and the blood of nations lavished 
like water, it is impossible not to look with deep interest on the 
final crisis of that dark and dreadful epoch — the crisis out of 
which our own happier cycle of years has been evolved. The 



* See the excellent IntroducUon to Mr. Charles Knight's History of "Thirty 
Tears' l*eace." 



BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 283 

great battle whicli ended the twenty-three years' war of the first 
French Kevolution, and which quelled the man whose genius and 
ambition had so long disturbed and desolated the world, deserves 
to be regarded by us not only with peculiar pride as one of our 
greatest national victories, but with peculiar gratitude for the re- 
pose which it secured for us and for the greater part of the human 
race. 

One good test for determining the importance of Waterloo is to 
ascertain what was felt by wise and prudent statesmen before that 
battle respecting the return of Napoleon from Elba to the imperial 
throne of France, and the probable effects of his success. For 
this purpose, I will quote the words, not of any of our vehement 
anti-Gailican politicians of the school of Pitt, but of a leader of 
our Liberal party, of a man whose reputation as a jurist, a histo- 
rian, and a far-sighted and candid statesman was, and is, deserv- 
edly high, not only in this country, but throughout Europe. Sir 
James Mackintosh said of the return from Elba, 

" Was it in the power of language to describe the evil? Wars 
which had raged for more than twenty years throughout Europe, 
which had spread blood and desolation from Cadiz to Moscow, 
and from Naples to Copenhagen ; which had wasted the means of 
human enjoyment, and destroyed the instruments of social im- 
provement ; which threatened to diffuse among the European na- 
tions the dissolute and ferocious habits of a predatory soldiery — 
at length, by one of those vicissitudes which bid defiance to the 
foresight of man, had been brought to a close, upon the whole, 
happy, beyond all reasonable expectation, with no violent shock 
to national independence, with some tolerable compromise be- 
tween the opinions of the age and the reverence due to ancient 
institutions ; with no too signal or mortifying triumph over the 
legitimate interests or avowable feelings of any numerous body of 
men, and, above all, without those retaliations against nations or 
parties which beget new convulsions, often as horrible as those 
which they close, and perpetuate revenge, and hatred, and blood 
from age to age. Europe seemed to breathe after her sufferings. 
In the midst of this fair prospect and of these consolatory hopes. 
Napoleon Bonaparte escaped from Elba ; three small ^ vessels 
reached the coast of Provence ; their hopes are instantly dispelled; 
the work of our toil and fortitude is undone ; the blood of Europe 
is spilled in vain — 

* Ihi omnis efCusus labor ! ' " 

The exertions which the allied powers made at this crisis to 
grapple promptly with the French emperor have truly been 
termed gigantic, and never were Napoleon's genius and activity- 
more signally displayed than in the celerity and skill by which he 
brought forward all the military resources of France, which the 
reverses of the three precediRg yxiars, aad the pacific poJicy ol 



284 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

the Eonrbons during the months of their first restoration, had 
greatly diminished and disorganized. He re-entered Paris on the 
20th of March, and by the end of May, besides sending a force 
into La Vendee to put down the armed risings of the Koyalists in 
that province, and besides providing troops under Massena and 
Suchet for the defense of tlie southern frontiers of France, Na- 
poleon had an army assembled in the northeast for active opera- 
tions under his own command, which amounted to between 120 
and 130,000 men,* wdth a superb, park of artillery, and in the 
highest possible state of equipment, discipline, and efficienc3\ 

The approach of the many Russians, Austrians, Bavarians, and 
other foes of the French emperor to the Khine was necessarily 
slow ; but the two most active of the allied powers had occupied 
Belgiuu^ with their troops while Napoleon was organizing his 
forces. Marshal Blucher was there with 116,000 Prussians, and 
the Duke of Wellington was there also with about 106,000 troops, 
either British or in British pay. f Napoleon determined to attack 
these enemies in Belgium. The disparity of numbers was indeed 
great, but delay was sure to increase the number of his enemi-es 
much faster than re-enforcements could join his own ranks. He 
considered also that "the enemy's troops were cantoned under 
the command of two generals, and composed of nations differing 
both in interest and in feelings."! His own army was iinder his 
own sole command. It was composed exclusively of French sol- 
diers, mostly of veterans, well acquainted with their oflficers and 
with each other, and full of enthusiastic confidence in their com-, 
mander. If he could separate the Prussians from the British, so 
as to attack each in detail, he felt sanguine of success, not only 
against these, the most resolute of his many adversaries, but also 
against the other masses that were slowly laboring up against his 
southeastern frontiers. 

The triple chain of strong fortresses w^hich the French possessed 
on the Belgian frontier formed a curtain, behind which Napoleon 
was able to concentrate his army, and to conceal till the very last 
moment the precise line of attack which he intended to take. On 
the other hand, Blucher and Wellington were obliged to canton 
their troops along a line of open country of considerable length, 
so as to watch for the outbreak of Napoleon from whichever point 
of his chain of strongholds he should please to make it. Blucher, 
with his army, occupied the banks of the Sambre and the Meuse, 
from Liege on his left, to Charleroi on his right ; and the Duke of 
Wellington covered Brussels, his cantonments being partly in 
front of that city, and between it and the French frontier, and 
partly on its west ; their extreme right being at Courtray and 

* See, tor these numbers, Siborne's " History of tlie Campaign of Water* 
loo," vol 1., p. 41. t Ibid., vol. i., cUap, lit 

i Montliolon's " Memoirs," p. -16, 



BAITLE OF WATERLOO, 285 

ToTirnay, wjiile their left approached Charleroi and communicated 
with the Prussian right. It was upon Charleroi that Napoleon 
resolved to level his attack, in hopes of severing the two allied 
armies from each other, and then pursuing his favorite tactic of 
assailing each separately with a superior force on the battle-field, 
though the aggregate of their numbers considerably exceeded his 
own. 

On the l.'Jth of June the Trench army was suddenly in motion, 
and crossed the frontier in three columns, which were pointed 
upon Charleroi and its vicinity. The French line of advance 
upon Brussels, which city Napoleon resolved to occupy, thus lay 
right through the center of the line of the cantonments of the 
allies. The Prussian general rapidly concentrated his forces, call- 
ing them in from the left, and the English general concentrated 
his, calling them in from the right toward the menaced center of 
the combined position. On the morning of the 16th, Blucher was 
in position at Ligny, to the northeast of Charleroi, with 80,000 
men. Wellington's troops were concentrating at Quatre Bras, 
which lies due north of Charleroi, and is about nine miles from 
Lign3^ On the 16th, Napoleon in person attacked Blucher, and, 
after a long and obstinate battle, defeated him, and compelled the 
Prussian army to retire northward toward Wavre. On the same 
day, Marshal Ney, with a large part of the French army, attacked the 
English troops at Quatre Bras, and a very severe engagement took 
place, in which Ney failed in defeating the British, but succeeded 
in ]ireventing their sending any help to Blucher, who w^as being 
beaten by the emperor at Ligny. On the news of Blucher's defeat 
at Ligny reaching Wellington, he foresaw that the emperor's army 
would now be directed upon him, and he accordingly retreated in 
order to restore his communications with his ally, which would 
have been dislocated by the Prussians falling back from Ligny to 
Wavre if the English had remained in advance at Quatre Bras. 
During the 17th, therefore, Wellington retreated, being pursued, 
but little molested by the main French army, over about half the 
space between Quatre Bras and Brussels. This brought him again 
parallel, on a line running from west to east, with Blucher, who 
was at Wavre. Having ascertained that the Prussian army, though 
beaten on the 16th, was not broken, and having received a promise 
from its general to march to his assistance, Wellington" determined 
to halt, and to give battle to the French emperor in the position, 
which, from a village in its neighborhood, has received ths ever- 
memorable name of the field of Watekix)o. 

Sir Walter Scott, in his "Life of Napoleon," remarks of Water- 
loo that "the scene of this celebrated action must be familiar to 
most readers either from description or recollection." The nar- 
ratives of Sir Walter himself, of Alison, Gleig, Siborne, and others, 
must have made the events of the iDattle almost equally well 
known. I might perhaps, content myself with referring to their 



286 DECISIVE BATTLES, 

pages, and avoid the difficult task of dealing with a suh^ jjt •w'H»ch 
has already been discussed so copiously, so clearly, ajid so elo- 
quently by others. In particular, the description by Captair 
Siborne of the Waterloo campaign is so full and so minute, so 
scrupulously accurate, and, at the same time, so spirited anO 
graphic that it will long clef}' the competition of far abler peL.s 
than mine. I shall only aim at giving a general idea of the main 
features of this great event, of this discrowning and crowning 
victory. 

When, after a very hard-fought and a long-doubtful day, Napo 
leon had succeeded in driving back the Prussian army from Ligny, 
and had resolved on marching himself to assail the English, ho 
sent, on the 17th, Marshal Grouchy with 30,000 men to pursue the 
defeated Prussians, and to prevent their marching to aid the Duk^i 
of Wellington. Great recriminations passed afterward between 
the marshal and the emperor as to how this duty was attempted to 
be performed, and the reasons why Grouchy failed on the 18th to 
arrest the lateral movement of the Prussian troops from Wavre 
toward Waterloo. It may be sufficient to remark here that Grouchy 
was not sent in pursuit of Bhicher till late on the 17th, and that 
the iorce given to nim was insufficient to make head against thv) 
whole Prussian army ; for Blucher's men, though they were beaten 
back, and suiicrod severe loss at Ligny, were neither routed nor 
disheartened ; and they W'ere joined at Wavre by a large division 
of their comrades under General Bulow, who had taken no part in 
the battle of the 16th, and who were fresh for the march to Waterloo 
against the French on the 18th. But the failure of Grouchy was 
in truth mainly owing to the indomitable heroism of Blucher him- 
self, who, though severely injured in the battle at Ligny, was as 
energetic and active as ever in bringing his men into action again, 
and who had the resolution to expose a part of his army, under 
Thielman, to be overwhelmed by Grouchy at Wavre on the 18th, 
while he urged the march of the mass of his troops upon Waterloo. 
•'It is not at Wavre, but at Waterloo," said the old held -marshal, 
"that the campaign is to be decided;" and he risked a detach- 
ment, and won the campaign accordingly. Wellington and Blucher 
trusted each other as cordiall}^ and co-operated as zealously, as 
formerly had been the case with Marlborough and Eugene. It 
was in full reliance on Blucher's promise to join him that the duke 
stood his ground and fought at Waterloo ; and those who have 
ventured to impugn the duke's capacity as a general ought to have 
had common sense enough to perceive that to charge the duke 
with having won the battle of Waterloo by the help of the Prussians 
is reallj" to say that he won it by the very means on which he re- 
lied, and without the expectation of which the battle would not have 
been fought 

Napoleon himself has found fault with Wellington* for not having 

* bee Montiiolon's ' ' Memoirs," voL iv. p. 44. 



BATTLE OF WATEBLOO. 287 

retreated beyond Waterloo, The short answer may be, that the 
duke had reason to expect that his army could singly resist the 
French at Waterloo until the Prussians came up, and that, on the 
Prussians Joining, there would be a sufficient force, united under 
himself and Blucher, for completely overwhelming the enemv. 
And whilo Napoleon thus censures his great adversary, he invol- 
untarily bears the highest possible testimony to the military char- 
acter of the English, and proves decisively of what paramount 
importance was the battle to which he challenged his fearlesa 
opponent. Napoleon asks, ''If the English army had been heaien ai 
Waterloo, what would have been the use of those numerous bodies oj 
troops, of Prussians, Austrians, Germans, and Spaniards, which wen 
advancing by forced marches to iheBhine, the Alps, andthe Pyrenees ?'"* 

The strength of the army under the Duke of Wellington at Water- 
loo was 49,608 infantry, 12,402 cavalry, and 5,645 artillerymen, with 
156guns.t But of this total of 67,655 men, scarcely 24,000 were 
British, a circumstance of very serious importance if Napoleon's 
own estimate of the relative value of troops of different nations is 
to be taken. In the emperor's own words, speaking of this cam- 
paign, "A French soldier would not be equal to more than one 
English soldier, but he would not be afraid to meet two Dutchmen, 
Prussians, or soldiers of the Confederation. "J There were about 
6,000 men of the old German Legion with the duke: these were 
veteran troops, and of excellent quality. But the rest of the army 
was mr:,de up of Hanoverians, Brunswickers, Nassauers, Dutch, 
and Belgians, many of whom were tried soldiers, and fought well, 
but many had been lately levied, and not a few were justly sus- 
pected of a strong wish to fight under the French eagles rather 
than against them. 

Napoleon's army at Waterloo consisted of 48,950 infantry, 15,765 
cavalry, 7,232 artillerymen, being a total of 71,947 men and 246 
guns.§ They were the elite of the national forces of France ; and 
of all the numerous gallant armies which that martial land has 
poured forth, never was there one braver, or better disciplined, or 
better led, than the host that took up its position at Waterloo on 
the morning of the 18th of June, 1815. 

Perhaps those who have not seen the field of battle at Waterloo, 
or the admirable model of the ground and of the conflicting armies 
which was executed by Captain Siborne, may gain a generally 
accurate idea of the localities by picturing to themselves a valley 
between two and three miles long, of various breadths at different 
points, but generally not exceeding half a mile. On each side of 
the valley there is a winding chain of low hills, running somewhat 
parallel with each other. The declivity from each of these ranges 
of hills to i^ intervening valley is gentle but not uniform, the 

* Montholon's "Memoirs,'' vol. iv., p. 44. t Silrorne, vol. i., p. .376 

t Moiittxolon'3 " Memoirs," vol. iv., p. 41. § See Siborne, ut ffupra* 



t 



288 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

nndulations of the ground being frequent and considerable. The 
English army was posted on the northern, and the French army 
occupi'^d f^^he southern ridge. The artillery of each side thundered 
at the other from their respective heights throughout the day, and 
the charge: o. horse and foo^ were made across the valley that has 
been described. The village of Mont St. Jean is situate a little 
behind the center of the northern chain of hills, and the village of 
La Belle Alliance is close behind the center of the southern ridge. 
The high road from Charlerio to Brussels runs through both these 
villages, and bisects, therefore, both the English and the French 
positions. The line of this road was the line of Napoleon's in- 
tended advance on Brussels. 

There are some other local particulars connected with the situa- 
tion of each army which it is necessary to bear in mind. The 
strength of the British position did not consist merely in the occu- 
pation of a ridge of high ground. A village and ravine, called 
M.£j±JBraine, on the Duke of Wellington's extreme right, secured 
him from his flank being turned on that side ; and on his extreme 
left, two little hamlets, called LaJHajj^ and^ jPapiUote, gave a simi- 
lar though a slighter protection. It was, however, less necessary 
to provide for this extremity of the position, as it was on this (the 
eastern) side that the Prussians were coming up. Behind the 
whole British position is the great and extensive forest of Soignies. 
As no attempt was made by the French to turn either of the 
English flanks, and the battle was a day of straightforward fight- 
ing, it iz chiefly important to see what posts there were in front of 
the British line of hills of which advantage could be taken either 
to repel or facilitate an attack ; and it'will be seen that there were 
two, and lliat each was of very great importance in the action. In 
front of the British right, that is to say, on the northern slope of 
the valley toward its western end, there stood an old-fashioned 
Flemish farm-house called Goumont or Hougoumont^ with out- 
buildings and a garden, and with a copse of beech trees of about 
two acres in extent round it. This was strongly garrisoned by the 
allied troops ; and while it was in their possession, it was difficult 
for the enemy to press on and force the British right wing. On 
the other hand, if the enemy could occupy it, it would be difi&cult 
for that wing to keep its ground on the heights, with a strong post 
held adversely in its immediate front, being one that would give 
much shelter to the enemy's marksmen, and great facilities for the 
sudden concentration of attacking columns. Almost immediately 
in front of the British center, and not so far down the slope as 
Hougonmont, there was another farm-house, of a smaller size, 
called T iaJay&_SaJ-Il|;f.. * which was also held by the British troops, 

* Not to he confounded veittL tlie liamlet of La Have, at the extreme left 
•f Oie British line. 



BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 289 

and the occupation of which was found to be of very serious con 
sequence. 

With reject to the French position, the principal feature to be 
noticed is the village of Planchenoit, which lay a little in the rear 
of their right {i.e., on the eastern side), and which proved to be of 
great importance in aiding them to check the advance of the Prus- 
sians. 

As has been already mentioned, the Prussians, on the morning 
of the 18th, were at Wavre, about twelve miles to the east of the 
field of battle at Waterloo. The junction of Bulow's division had 
more than made up for the loss sustained at Ligny ; and leaving 
Thielman, with about 17,000 men, to hold his ground as he best 
could against the attack which Grouchy was about to make on 
Wavre, Bulow and Blucher moved with the rest of the Prussians 
upon Waterloo. It was calculated that they would be there bj 
three o'clock ; but the extremely difficult nature of the ground 
which they had to traverse, rendered worse by the torrents of rain 
that had just fallen, delayed them long on their twelve miles' 
march. 

The night of the 17th was wet and stormy ; and when the dawn 
of the memorable 18th of June broke, the rain was still descending 
heavily. The French and British armies rose from their dreary 
bivouacs and began to form, each on the high ground which it 
occupied. Toward nine the weather grew clearer, and each army 
was able to watch the postion and arrangements of the other on 
the opposite side of the valley. 

The Duke of Wellington drew up his infantry in two lines, the 
second line being composed principally of Dutch and Belgian 
troops, whose fidelity was doubtful, and of those regiments of other 
nations which had suffered most severely at Quatre Bras on the 
16th. This second line was posted on the northern declivity of 
the hills, so as to be sheltered from the French cannonade. The 
cavalry was stationed at intervals along the line in the rear, the 
largest force of horse being collected on the left of the center, to 
the east of the Charleroi road. On the opposite heights the French 
army was drawn up in two general lines, with the entire force of 
the Imperial Guards, cavalry as well as infantry, in rear of the 
center, as a reserve. English military critics have highly eulogized 
the admirable arrangement which Napoleon made of his forces of 
each arm, so as to give him the most ample means of sustaining, 
by an immediate and sufficient support, any attack, from whatever 
point he might direct it, and of drawing promptly together a 
strong force, to resist any attack that might be made on himself in 
any part of the field. * When his troops were all arrayed, he rode 
along the lines, receiving every where the most enthusiastic cheers 
from his men, of whose entire devotion to him his assurance was 

* Sibome, vol. 1., p. 376. 



200 DKCTSTVE JiATTLES. 

now iloably snro. On tho soiithoru side of tho viilloy the dnke'a 
army wtis aUso aimyoil. aiul romiy to meet tho luouaoed jittaok. 

•' Tho two armit>s woro now fairly in prosonco of onch otlvor, and 
thoir mutual obsorvativui was govornod by tho most intonso inter- 
est and tho most so rut iri/.iiii:; anxiety. In a still greater degree 
did those feelings aotuaro thoir oommanders, while watohing each 
other's preparatory movements, and minutely souuning tho surface 
of the arena on which taotunl skill, habitual prowess, physical 
strength, and moral courage were to dooiile, not alone their own, 
but, in all probability, tho fate of Eurojio. Apart from national 
interosts anvl considerations, and viewed solely in connection with 
the opposite chanictors of tho two illustrious chiefs, tho approach- 
ing contest was contemplated with anxious solicitude by the whole 
military world. Need this create surprise when we retioct that 
the struggle was one for mastery between the far-famed conqueror 
of Italy and the victorious liberator of the Peninsula ; between the 
triumphiuit viuiipiishor of Eastern Europe, and tho bold and suo- 
cessful invader of tho south of Fnuice ! Fever was the issue of a 
single battle looked forward to as involving consequonoos of such 
vast importance, of such nnivoi-sal intluonco."* 

It was approaching noon before tho action commenced. Napo- 
leon, in Ids memoirs, gives as the reason for this delay, tho miry 
state of tho ground through tho heavy rains of tho preceding night 
and day, which rendered it impossible for cavalry or artillery to 
maneuver on it till a few hours of dry weather had given it iti 
natural consistency. It has boon supposed, also, that he trusted 
to tho eliect which the sight of the imposing array of his own forces 
was likely to produce on tho part of thenlliod army. The Belgian 
regiments had been tampered with ; iiiid Napoleoi^ had well found- 
ed hopes of seeing them quit tho Puke of Wellington in a body, 
and rjuige themselves under his own eagles. Tho du!v-'\ however, 
who know and did not trust them, had guarded aijjainst tho rislj 
of this by breaking np tho corps of Belgians, and distri\)utinj> theiS 
in separate regiments among troops on whom he could rely. ,• 

At last, at about half past eleven o'clock, Kapoleon begixn the 
battle by directing a powerful force from his left wing under his 
brother, Prince .lorome, to attack llougoumont. Column after 
column of tho French now descended from tho west of tho south- 
ern heights, and assailed that post with fiery \alor, which was 
encountered witli tho most determined bravery. Tho French won 
tho copse round tho house, but a party of the Jiritish Guiu-ds held 
tho house itself throughout tho day. Amid shell and shot, and the 
blazing fragments of part of tho buildings, this obstinate contest 
was continued. But still the English held Hougoumonts though 
the French occasionally moved forward in such numbei's as enabled 
them to surround and mask this post with part of their txoops from 

♦ SlboTB*. TOL i., p. in, t Ibid, p. STS. 



BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 231 

thoir loft wing, while others pressed onward up the slope, and as- 
sailed the Jiritish right. 

The cannonade, which commenced at first between the British 
right and the French left, in consequence of the attack on Hou- 
goumont, soon became general along both lines ; and about one 
o'clock Napoleon directed a grand attack to be made under Marshal 
Ney upon the center and left wing of the allied army. For this 
purpose lV>ur columns of infantry, amounting to about 18,000 men, 
were collected, sujjported by a strong division of cavalry under the 
celebrated Kellerman, and seventy-four guns were brought forward 
ready to bo posted on the right of a little undulation of the ground 
in the interval between the two main ranges of heights, so as to 
bring their fire to bear on the duke's line at a range of about seven 
hundred yards. Uy the combined Ussault of these formidable 
forces, led on by Ney, "the bravest of the brave," Napoleon hoped 
to force the lelt center of the British position, to take La Haye 
tSainte, and then, x>ressing forward, to occupy also the farm of Mont 
St. J imn . He then could cut the mass of Wellington's troops off" from 
their line of retreat upon Brussels, and from their own left, and also 
completely sever them from any Prussian troojjs that might be 
approaching. 

The columns destined for this great and decisive operation de- 
scended majestically from the French range of hills, and gained 
the ridge of the intervening eminence, on which the batteries that 
sui)|)orted them were now ranged. As the columns descended 
again from the eminence, the seventy -four guns opened over their 
heads with terrible effect upon the troops of the allies that were 
stationed on the heights to the left of the Charleroi road. One of 
the French columns kept to the east, and attacked the extreme left 
of the allies; the other three continued to move rapidly forward 
ujjon the left center of the allied position. The front line of the 
allies here was composed of Blyant's brigade of Dutch and Belgi- 
ans. As the French columns moved up the southward slope of the 
height on which the Dutch and Belgians stood, and the skirmishers 
in advance l^egan to open their fire, Blyant's entire brigade turned 
and fled in disgraceful and disorderly panic; but there were men 
more worthy oi the name behind. 

The second line of allies here consisted of two brigades of Engs 
lish infantry, which had suffered severely at Quatre Bras. But they 
were under Pincton, and not even Ney himself surpassed in reso- 
lute bravery that stern and fiery spirit, Pincton brought his two 
brigades forward, side by side, in a thin two-deep line. Thus 
joined together, they were not 3,000 strong. With these Pincton 
had to make head against the three victorious French columns, 
ujiwards of four times that strength, and who, encouraged by the 
easy route of the Dutch and Belgians, now came confidently over 
the ridge of the hill. The British infantry stood firm ; and as the 
French halted and began to deploy into linej Pincton ^eize^ 



202 DECISIVE BATTLES. 

the critical moment; a oloso and deadly volley was thrown in upon 
them, and then with a lioroe hiinah the British dashed in with tLio 
bayonet. The French re> led back in contusion; and as they stag- 
gered down the hill, a brigaile of the English cavalry rodo in on 
them, cutting them down by whide battalions, jmd taking 2.000 pris- 
oners. The JU-itish cavalry gallojuHl forward and sabred tho 
, artillery-men of Ney's seventy-four advanced guns ; and then cut- 
ting the traces and the throats of the horses, rendering these guns 
totally useless to the French thnn;ghout the remainder of tho day. 
In tho excitement of success, the English cavalry continued to press 
on, but were charged in their turn, and driven back with severe 
loss bv ^lilhaud'a cuirassiers. 

This great att^ick (in repelling which the brave Picton had fallen) 
had now^ completely failed ; antl, at the same time, a powerful body 
of French cuirassiers, who were advancing along the right of tho 
Oharleroi road, and had been fairly beaten after a idose hand-to- 
hand tight by tho heavy cavalry of the English household brigade, 
llougoumont was still being assailed, and was successfully resist- 
ing. 

Troops were now beginning to appear at the edge of the horison 
on Napoleon's right, which ho too well knew to be Prussian, 
though he endeavored to pursuado his followers that they were 
Grouchy 's men coming to aid them. It was now about half past 
three o'clock ; and though Wellington's army had suffered severely 
by tho unremitting cannonade and in the late desperate encoun- 
ter, no part of the British position had been forced. Napoleon 
next determined to try what effect he could produce on the 
British center and right by charges of his splendid cavalry, brought 
on in such force that the duke's cavalry could not check them. 
Fresh troops were at the same time sent to assail La Haye Saints 
and Hougoiuuont, the possejssion of these posts being the emperor's 
unceasing object. Squadron after squadron of tho French cuiras- 
siers accordingly ascended the slopes on the diike's rights and rode 
forward with dauntless courage against the batteries of the British 
artillery on that part of the held. The artillery-men were driven 
from their guns, and the cuirassiers cheered loudly at their sup- 
posed triumph. But the diike had formed his infantry in squares, 
and tho cuirassiers charged in vain against the impenetrable 
hedges of boyonets, while the lire fi'om tho inner ranks of the squares 
told with terrible effect on their own squadrons. Time after time 
they rode forward with invariably the same result ; and as they 
▼eceded from each attack, the British artillery-men rushed forward 
rom the center of the squares, where they had taken refuge, and 
plied their guns on the retiring horsemen. Nearly the whole of 
Napoleon's magnificent body of heavy cavalry was destroyed in 
these friiitless attempts upon the l^ritish right. But in another 
part of the field fortune favored him for a time. Donzelot's in- 
fantry took La Haye Sainte between six and seven o'clock, and the 



BATTLE OP WATJ/nniOO. 293 

means were now given for organizing another formidable attack 
on tiie center of the allies. 

There wan no time to be lost: Blucber and Bulow were begin- 
ning to press upon the French right; as early as five o'clock. 
Napoleon had been obliged to detach LoVjau's infantry and Do- 
mont's horse to check these new enemies. This was done for a 
time; but, as large numbers of the Prussians came on the field,' 
they turned Lobau's left, and sent a strong force to seize the vil- 
lage of Planchenoit, which, it will be remembered, lay in the rear 
of the French right. Napoleon was now obliged to send his 
Young Guard to occupy that village, which was accordingly held 
by them with great gallantry against the reiterated assaults of the 
Prussian left under Bulow. But the force remaining under Napo- 
leon was now numerically inferior to that under the Duke of 
Wellington, which he had been assailing throughout the day, 
without gaining any other advantage than the capture of La Haye 
Samte. It is true that, owing to the gross misconduct oi' the 
greater part of the Dutch and Belgian troojjs, the duke was obliged 
to rely exclusively on his English and German soldiers, and the 
ranks of these had been fearfully thinned ; but the survivors 
stood their ground heroically, and still opposed a resolute front 
to every forward movement of their enemies. Napoleon had then 
the means of efiecting a retreat. His Old Guard had yet taken no 
part in the action. Under cover of it, he might have withdrawn 
his shattered forces and retired upon the French frontier. But 
this would only have given the English and Prussians the oppor- 
tunity of completing their junction; and he knew that other armies 
were fast coming up to aid them in a march upon Paris, if he 
should succeed in avoiding an encounter with them, and retreat- 
ing upon the capital. A victory at Waterloo was his only alterna- 
tive from utter ruin, and he determined to employ his guard in one 
bold stroke more to make that victory his own. 

Between seven and eight o'clock the infantry of the Old Guard 
was formed into two columns, on the declivity near La Belle 
Alliance. Nej" was placed at their head. Napoleon himself rode 
forward to a spot by which his veterans were to pass ; and as they 
approached he raised his arm, and pointed to the position of the 
allies, as if to tell them that their path lay there. Th,ey answered 
with loud cries of " Vive I'Empereur ! " and descended the hill 
from their own side into that " valley of the shadow of death,* 
while their batteries thundered with redoubled vigor over their 
heads upon the British line. The line of march of the columns of 
the Guard was directed between Hougoumont and La Haye 
Sainte, against the British right center; and at the same time, 
Donzelot and the French, who had possession of La Haye Sainte, 
commenced a fierce attack upon the British center, a little more 
to its left. This part of the battle has drawn less attention than 
the celebrated attack of tue Old Guard; but it formed the most 



S94 DPxmvt: BATTLES. 

perilous crisis for the nllied army; and if the Yoiinp; Guard had 
been there to support Donzelot, instead of being engaged with the 
Prussians at Phiuchenoit, the consequences to the allies in that 
part of the field must have been most serious. The French tirail- 
leurs, who were posted in clouds in La Haye Sainte, and the shel- 
tered spots near it, completely disabled the artillery-men of the 
English batteries near them; and, taking advantage of the crippled 
state of the English guns, the French brought somelield-pieces up 
to La Haye Sainte. and commenced tiring grape from them on the 
infantry of the allies, at a distance of not more than a hundred 
paces. The allied infantry here consisted of some German bri- 
gades, who were formeci m squares, at it was believed that Don- 
zelot had cavalry ready oehind La Haye Sainte to charge them 
with, if they left that order of formation. In this state the Ger- 
mans remainod for some time with heroic fortitude, though the 
grape-shot was tearing gaps in their ranks, and the side of one 
square was literally blown away by one tremendous volley which 
the French gunners poured into it. The Prince of Orange in 
vain endeavored to lead some Nassau troops to their aid. The 
Nassauers would not or could not face the French; and some 
battalions of Bninswickers, whom the Duke of Wellington had or- 
dered up as a re-enforcement, at first fell back, until the duke in 
person rallied them and led them on. The duke then galloped 
off to the right to head his men who were exposed to the attack 
of the Imperial Guard. He had saved one part of his center from 
being routed; but the French had gained ground here, and the 
pressure on the allied line was severe, until it was relieved by the 
decisive success which the British in the right center achievtnl 
over the columns of the Guard. 

The British troops on the crest of that part of the position, 
which the first column of Napoleon's Guards assaiied, w^ere Mait- 
land's brigade of British Guards, having Adam's brigade on their 
right. Maitland's men were lying down, in order to avoid, as far 
as possible, the destructive effect of the French artillery, which 
kept up an unremitting fire from the opposite heights, until the 
first column of the Imperial Guard had advanced so far up tiie 
slope toward the British position that any farther firing of the 
French artillery-men would endanger their own comrades. Mean- 
while, the British guns were not idle; but shot and shell ploweil 
fast through the ranks of the stately array of veterans that still 
moved imposingly on. Several of the French superior oflicers 
were at its head. Ney's horse was shot under him, but he still 
led the w'ay on foot, sword in hand. The front of the massy 
column now was on the ridge of the hill. To their surprise, they 
saw no troops before them. All they coiild discern through the 
smoke was a small band of mounteil ofticei's. One of them was 
the duke himself. The French advanced to about fifty yards 
from where the British Guards were lying down, when the voice 



BATTLE OF WATMiLOO. 2% 

of one of the band of British officers was heard calling, as if to the 
ground before him, " Up, Guards, and at them ! " It was the duke 
who gave the order; and at tlie words, as if by magic, up started 
before them a line of tlie British Guards four deep, and in the 
most compact and perfect order. They poured an instantaneous 
volley upon the head of the French column, by which no less than 
three hundred of those chosen veterans are said to have fallen. 
The French officers rushed forward, and, conspicuous in front of 
their men, attempted to deploy them into a more extended line, 
so as to enable them to reply with effect to the British fire. But 
Maitland's brigade kept showering in volley after volley with 
deadly rapidity. The decimated column grew disordered in its 
vain efforts to expand itself into more efficient formation. The 
right word was given at the right moment to the British for the 
bayonet-charge, and the brigade sprang forward with a loud cheer 
against their dismayed antagonists. In an instant the compact 
mass of the French spread out in a rabble, and they fled back 
down the hill pursued by Maitland's men, who, however, returned 
to their position in time to take part in the repulse of the second 
column of the Imperial Guard. 

This column also advanced with great spirit and firmness un- 
der the cannonade which was opened on it, and passing by the 
eastern wall of Hougoumont, diverged slightly to the right as it 
moved up the slope toward the British position, so as to approach 
the same spot where the first column had surmounted the height 
and been defeated. This enabled the British regiments of Adam's 
brigade to form a line parallel to the left flank of the French 
column, so that while the front of this column of French Guards 
had to encounter the cannonade of the British batteries, and 
the musketry of Maitland's Guards, its left flank was assailed 
with a destructive fire by a four-deep body of British infantry, 
extending all along it. In such a position, all the bravery and 
skill of the French veterans were vain. The second column, 
like its predecessor, broke and fled, taking at first a lateral direc- 
tion along the front of the British line toward the rear of La 
Haye Sainte, and so becoming blended with the divisions of 
French infantry, which, under Donzelot, had been pressing the 
allies so severely in that quarter. The sight of the Old Guard 
broken and in flight checked the ardor which Donzelot's troops 
had hitherto displayed. They, too, began to waver. Adam's 
victorious brigade was pressing after the flying Guard, and now 
cleared away the assailants of the allied center. But the battle 
was not yet won. Napoleon had still some battalions in reserve 
near La Belle Alliance. He was rapidly rallying the remains of 
the first column of his Guards, and he had collected into one body 
the remnants of the various corps of cavalry, which had suffered 
eo severely in the earlier part of the day. The duke instantly 
formed the bold resolution of now himself becoming the assailant 



29(5 decisive! BATTtm 

and leading hiS succGssful though enfeebled array forward, while 
the disheartening efifeet of the repulse of the Imperial Guard on 
the French army was still strong, and before Napoleon and Ney 
could rally the beaten veterans themselves for another and a 
fiercer charge. As the close approach of the Prussians now com- 

Eletely protected the duke's left, he had drawn some reserves of 
orse from that quarter, and he had a brigade of Hussars under 
Vivian fresh and ready at hand. Without a moment's hesitation 
he launched these against the cavalry near La Belle Alliance. The 
charge was as successful as it was daring; and there was now no 
hostile cavalry to check the British infantry in a forward movement, 
the duke gave the long wished-for command for a general advance 
of the army along the whole line upon the foe. It was now past 
eight o'clock, and for nine deadly hours had the British and Ger- 
man regiments stood unflinching under the tire of artillery, the 
charge of cavalry, and every variety of assault that the compact col- 
umns or the scattered trialleurs of the enemy's infantry could inflict. 
As they joyously sprang forward against the discomfited masses of 
the French, the setting sun broke through the clouds which had 
obscured the sky during the greater part of the day, and glittered 
on the bayonets of the allies while they in turn poured down the 
valley and toward the heights that were held by the foe. Almost 
the whole of the French host was now in irretrievable confusion. 
The Prussian army was coming more and more rapidly forward on 
their right, and the Young Guard, which had held Planchenoit 
so bravely, was at last compelled to give way. Some regiments of 
the Old Guard in vain endeavored to form in squares. They were 
swept away to the rear; and then Napoleon himself fled from the 
last of his many fields, to become in a few weeks a captive and an 
exile. The battle was lost by France past all recovery. The vic- 
torious armies of England and Prussia, meeting on the scene of 
their triumph, continued to press forward and overwhelm every 
attempt that was made to stem the tide of ruin. The Britisli army, 
exhausted by its toils and suftering during that dreadful day, did 
not urge the pursuit beyond the heights which the enemy had 
occupied. But the Prussians drove the fugitives before them 
throughout the night. And of the magnificent host which had that 
morning cheered their emperor in confidentexpectation of victory, 
very few were ever assembled again in arms. Their loss, both in 
lh« field and in the pursuit, was immense; and the greater num- 
ber of those who escaped dispersed as soon as they crossed the 
frontier. 

The army under the Duke "Wellington lost nearly 15,000 men in 
killed and wounded on this terrible day of battle. The loss of the 
Prussian army was nearly 7,000 more. At such a fearful price was 
the deliverance of Europe purchased. 

On closing our survey of this, the last of the Decisive Battles of 
the World, it is pleasing to contrast the year which it signalized 



BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 297 

lirith the one that is now passing over our heads. We have not (and 
long may we want) the stern excitememt of the struggles of war, 
and we see no captive Standards of our European neighbors brought 
in triumph to our shrines. But we witness an infinitely prouder 
spectacle. "We see the banners of every civilized nation waving 
over the arena of our competition with each other in the arts that 
minister to our race's supjjort and happiness, and not to its suffer- 
ing and destruction. 

" Peace hath her victories 
No less renowned than war ; " 

and no battle-field ever witnessed a victory more noble than that 
which England, under her sovereign lady and her royal prince, is 
uow teaching the peof)les of the earth to achieve over selfish preju- 
dice and international feuds, in the great cause of the general 
promotion of industry and welfare of mankind. 



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